


Sally's Secret

by wallflower414



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2020-03-17 19:07:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 41
Words: 104,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18971245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wallflower414/pseuds/wallflower414
Summary: Thunderbirds Are Go! Universe. It's five years post canon and everyone in International Rescue is seriously overworked. They've tried to get help before, but The Hood sent in spies. Can Grandma Tracy do any better before it's too late?  **COMPLETE**





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Unfortunately, I have to rely on Amazon to watch the show, so I don't have any background knowledge beyond “Brains vs. Brawn”. I used the old 1960s show to fill in backstory about Kayo's father being their cook and housekeeper, which may have been contradicted in later episodes I have not yet seen. Same with whether Jeff Tracy and Kyrano are deceased. I assume both are for my story. My story is set AFTER everything anyone will ever see, when Alan turns 21, so at least five years beyond the series.
> 
> Local municipalities and the GDF have all purposely neglected their own equipment and they’ve slashed their human resource budgets in favour of dumping more and more responsibility on the tiny, family-operated International Rescue. Because they're so overworked, IR has tried recruiting some extra hands to help. So far, an assistant mechanic and an extra pilot have been to Tracy Island, living among them for three months and four months respectively. Both turned out to be agents for The Hood, trying to infiltrate and destroy IR from the inside. Subsequently, Scott declared a ban on any more recruiting as just not worth the risk. No one argued with his logic.
> 
> The Hood has been captured and escaped several times in the past five years, the last time from a prison built especially to hold him. His newest “associate” calls himself The Alchemist. The Hood and The Alchemist work together better than The Hood and The Mechanic did, mostly because The Alchemist hasn't failed him...yet. Since The Hood has known where Tracy Island is ever since “Legacy”, Brains and Kayo have added more security to all IR vehicles and the island itself. Not to be outdone, Parker also upgraded FAB 1 and the Creighton-Ward Estate. Security is now tighter than ever.

Lady Penelope Creighton-Ward sat back on her couch and lifted a china cup to her lips for a short sip of tea. “Perfect as always, Parker.”

“Will you be needing anything else, milady?” the Cockney-accented driver asked.

The table held a small spread of biscuits, crumpets, and cucumber sandwiches—more than she would ever eat. Her mobile phone chimed, but as it was not the compact connected to International Rescue’s comms systems, she deemed it unimportant and waved Parker off. “I’m fine for now. Go put your feet up.”

Parker grinned. “Yes, milady.”

When Penelope looked down at her phone, she almost called Parker back, but the fact Mrs. Tracy had used a private phone line and not the normal IR comms made her hesitate. Best see what this was about first. She hit the connect button and saw the Tracy matriarch's holo-projection hover over the small screen.

Penelope smiled at her. “Mrs. Tracy, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

The old woman’s voice was upbeat despite being timbered with advanced age. “I need a favour on the Q.T.” She winked, which was a little comical with the number of wrinkles around her eyes.

“Of course. What do you need?”

Mrs. Tracy shot a covert look right and left. “We should discuss it in person. When is a good time for you, dear?”

Penelope’s first inclination was to drop everything and have Parker fly her in _FAB 1_ out to Tracy Island. The matriarch’s health was declining more than anyone seemed ready to admit and she shouldn’t have to travel unnecessarily. But if she wanted this kept secret from her grandsons, then meeting on Tracy Island was probably out. “I’m free right now. Shall I have Parker come fetch you then?”

“Oh, I think asking one of the boys to drop me off for tea and some girl-talk wouldn’t arouse too much suspicion. International Rescue is _slightly_ ” her holo-projection illustrated the minuteness of this word with a thumb and forefinger nearly touching, “less busy at the moment. Would half an hour from now work okay?”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then.” She alerted Parker to add a little to the spread he’d already prepared, so it was fit for a guest. On the way back, she pressed the proper buttons so that one of the _Thunderbirds_ could land on her manor’s circular driveway without setting off one of Parker's new security alarms.

No longer the excitable puppy he once was, Sherbert the pug slept in a sunny bay window as was his usual for an afternoon at home. He didn’t need to be awake for a visit from Mrs. Tracy, so Penelope left him sleeping.

 

* * *

 

Sally Tracy set the phone aside and heaved a deep sigh. She should have done this years ago, but had never been ready for the change. Leaving things as they were, even when she knew deep in her heart it wasn’t ideal, had always just felt easier. It had indeed been better not to look for new house staff immediately after the tragic death of their last cook and housekeeper, Kyrano. Jeff couldn’t bring himself to think of hiring anyone else with the wound so fresh. How might it have looked to Kayo? Her father was not some robot who could be replaced like a mechanical gizmo Brains put together. Kyrano had always been _family_. So _family_ , specifically Sally herself, had taken over most of Kyrano’s previous tasks. It was supposed to be temporary, a stopgap measure to give them all some time to heal. But then Jeff's accident happened and made another household change unthinkable.

Mentally, Sally knew she would always be loved as Grandma, for who she was and how much she’d contributed to International Rescue, both in occasional dispatching to free up John, and in mentoring all the youngsters, but there was a niggling little part of her brain that always insisted that cooking and laundry and cleaning were how she made herself not merely loved, but _useful_ to the family.

Teaching the youngsters to do household chores for themselves had been important life lessons, but Kayo and the boys truly no longer had the time or energy anymore to devote to anything other than their important work. _They really should be eating better_ , she often thought to herself. Yet she knew her terrible cooking was the major reason they didn’t eat well. It had to stop.

Resisting the change had become worse than the upheaval it was probably going to cause. No one lived forever and her doctor had just informed Sally that she was living on borrowed time. She couldn’t put this off any longer.

Alan was asleep in his room, but _Thunderbird 3_ was a poor choice for a trip to London anyway, so she didn’t wake him. Kayo and Scott were out on missions. Piano melodies lilting gently from the living room meant Virgil was not on a mission or sleeping, so _Thunderbird 2_ would be the logical conveyance. Gordon was sitting in the sunken circular lounge, watching “Into the Unknown with Buddy and Ellie” with the volume turned up so he could hear over the piano. It was too bad Sally had to interrupt the piano and not the silly webcast.

“Virgil, would you mind terribly flying me out on a little excursion?” She rested her hand on his shoulder.

Although it probably annoyed him more than he would admit, he halted his playing and gave her a smile. “Sure, Grandma. Where to?”

“Lady Penelope invited me to her place for tea.” It was more like she’d invited herself, but Virgil didn’t need to know that. She shot a glance at Gordon. Usually, any mention of Lady Penelope piqued his interest. Trying to stop him would only invite suspicion, so Sally decided she’d let Gordon tag along if he insisted, but she really needed to have some privacy, so it would be better if he didn’t come. Virgil wouldn’t try nearly as hard to join in on the girl-time and he’d be much easier to distract via some invented mechanical problem on _FAB 1_ if they got desperate. Gordon didn’t look up from the Pendergasts’ webcast. With the volume so high, he evidently had not heard the magic words and his “squid sense”, if such a thing even existed, didn’t seem to work anywhere but underwater. When Sally returned her full attention to Virgil, she could see he’d had the same thought.

He stood up from the bench, quietly closing the piano’s key guard. “Let’s sneak out before Squidboy over there tries to horn in on your party.”

“Good idea,” Sally whispered.

 _Thunderbird 5_ called _Thunderbird 2_ into action just as they landed at Creighton-Ward Manor. Although Sally hated to let him go alone, her meeting with Lady Penelope was too important to delay any longer. Virgil promised to come pick her up after his mission in the Swiss Alps.

 _Thunderbird 2_ jetted off into the sky before Sally had the chance to think about how she was going to get up all those stairs. Her doctor told her she should be using a cane all the time now, but the staircases on Tracy Island had nice, solid handrails, so she had never quite got around to buying a cane. Thankfully, Parker opened the door and guessed her dilemma. “May I offer you assistance, Mrs. Tracy, ma’am?”

Having one’s body give out was _such_ a drag, but falling here would have been embarrassing and painful, so she breathed a tiny sigh of relief. “That would be appreciated, Parker.” Lady Penelope's driver was getting up there in years too, although not nearly as old as Sally. He extended his elbow and let her use his strength to steady her slow but steady ascent.

Lady Penelope and Sally both said “Thank you, Parker” in unison when they reached the door.

The food and tea were excellent, as always, but Sally could hardly enjoy them with the burden of what she had to say weighing on her. Lady Penelope dismissed Parker and he excused himself out of the room, shutting the door as he left.

“Well, I must say, you have me curious,” Lady Penelope said.

“Sorry to be so cryptic,” Sally replied, stirring her tea constantly to give nervous hands something to do. “I want to hire a home health aide, but Scott is so leery of outsiders ever since that pilot turned on us. I know he's going to be resistant to the idea. I came to ask if you could pre-screen applicants for us, so he can't complain.”

“I can't promise to mitigate all of Scott's fears, but I can certainly help you find some excellent candidates. Only the best will do for the Tracys.”

“She has to be a decent cook too.”

“ _She?_ Are you excluding males from consideration?”

Sally nodded. “For the personal stuff I need done, I just feel more comfortable with a woman.” She locked eyes with her tea companion, hoping this cultured aristocratic lady who spent a good deal of her time with a male driver would infer the delicacy of an old lady's medical situation without having to spell out the degrading details. A knowing look passed between them that said it all. She understood.

That said, there was another reason Sally wanted a female, but it was considerably less respectable to admit, not to mention super-wishful thinking to harbour a desire for the possibility of future great-grandchildren out of this whole deal. However, it was probably better to just get that silliness out in the open. She adopted a playful tone to mutter under her breath, yet loud enough not to mistake: “Wouldn't hurt if she was single either.”

Lady Penelope's eyes widened. “You want me to play matchmaker?”

“Oh, goodness no. Just...maybe... _finagle_ things a teensy bit so that if one of the boys just _happens_ ” and here the two women exchanged another significant look, “to be interested in a romance, he won't have some silly excuse not to pursue it. Would it be so bad to keep your search limited to unencumbered twenty-somethings instead of equally-qualified forty-somethings?”

The young blonde chuckled. “No, of course not. Is that why you want her to be a good cook?”

“No, cooking is critical apart from any—” she curled her fingers in air quotes, “ _matchmaking_ we might be doing.” She remembered something Parker often said and it fit, so she hastily added: “Allegedly.”

Lady Penelope grinned, her blue eyes sparkling with youthful mirth.

Sally sneaked a quick sip of tea and continued. “The cooking side of it is actually more important than I want you to let on with the boys. The fact I need a home health aide is not a lie, but it's also a bit of a pretext. It's long past time we found a replacement for Kyrano—not that anyone could replace Kayo's father in our hearts, of course—but I am getting too old” _and too worn out_ , she mused silently, “to do everything he used to do for Jeff and the boys.” Not that she'd ever matched Kyrano's skills in the kitchen to begin with, but that was another matter entirely.

“I see.” The big question burned silently behind her eyes: _It's been years, so why now?_ Bless her rock-solid British manners for not voicing it. Much as Sally yearned for someone she could spill her heart to, and much as she knew she could trust Lady Penelope to keep her secret, it simply wouldn't be right to tell her before she told Kayo or the boys.

The London agent set her teacup down with an air of finality. “So, will a dozen candidates be enough for you to choose from?”

She scoffed lightheartedly. “I don't need _that_ many. Narrow it down to the top three for me, would you, dear?”

“Anything for you, Mrs. Tracy.”


	2. Chapter 2

It turned out that looking for a cook-housekeeper-home health aide for Mrs. Tracy wasn't as easy as Penelope had assumed it would be. She couldn't just take an ad out on the Internet with the possibility of The Hood seeing it. Luckily, she had access to the hyper-secure Distinguished Domestics Network used by the best-connected in British society, including the royal family themselves. All candidates had to pass extensive background checks and prove their competency for any job they might apply for. With his misspent youth and questionable undertakings on the wrong side of the law, Parker would never have qualified for the Network, but since Penelope had no intention of ever letting him go, it didn't matter that her father had found Parker outside it. She didn't know where Jeff found Kyrano, but the fact he turned out to be related to The Hood would likely have disqualified him as well. So it was with a deep sense of irony that she had to conduct her search for a prospective employee who would be as loyal and competent as Parker and Kyrano inside a Network that would have rejected both of them.

Candidates who had all the requisite skills and were under the age of 35 narrowed things down considerably. She selected 47 who seemed to fit the bill and wrote a mass email to all of them, giving them only vague particulars, without mentioning the Tracy name or International Rescue. The most limiting criteria would be the job location. How many highly competent women of that age would be willing to relocate to a nearly-uninhabited and uncharted island with no commercial airport? Penelope knew the Tracys would never trap someone there against their will, but how was an outsider to know that? On the surface, it would appear quite dodgy to a woman to commit herself to living on such an isolated rock with no independent means of escape.

Only seven candidates wished to pursue the position once they were told of the remote location. It was a very good thing Mrs. Tracy had only wanted three to choose from, because the overly-optimistic twelve Penelope originally offered turned out to be impossible to scrounge up. She had Parker cold-call the seven of them, one at a time, acting more than a little senile, just to test the waters. Two of the seven were rude enough to be eliminated immediately. The other five were invited to submit their curricula vitae and schedule interviews.

One young woman was late to her interview, which in itself was forgivable, but she didn't apologise and when Penelope mentioned her tardiness, the candidate blamed her taxi driver. Little did she know that driver had also been Parker in disguise. Her file hit the rubbish bin the moment she left Creighton-Ward Manor.

The last four all performed respectably in their interviews, and it would have been difficult to narrow any further were it not for Bertie inexplicably growling at one of them. It wasn't an overly hostile growl, like when The Hood tried to impersonate Professor Moffat on the Reykjavik Express, but not the playful growl regularly foisted upon Parker for attention, either. The prospective employee may have been an agent of The Hood, or someone prone to steal from her employer, or perhaps she had merely petted a cat whose scent irritated Sherbert. Penelope would have been at a loss trying to justify it with logic, but this being a purely private matter, and having three qualified candidates besides, she didn't feel badly to discard one solely on the “recommendation” of her dog.

Of the remaining three, Charlotte Walker had the most prestigious references, having worked for a baroness and a viscount. She'd trained at a very exclusive culinary arts school in Paris, so if cooking was as paramount to the position as Mrs. Tracy said, she should be a shoo-in. However, Penelope suspected Charlotte might be a bit too ambitious. She would likely work long enough to collect a favourable reference from the famous Tracys and then move on up the ladder. If Mrs. Tracy was interested in more long-term, then she needed to question Charlotte pointedly on that matter.

Olivia Thomas was beautiful enough to be a model or cinema star, and it wasn't just Penelope's opinion. Parker confirmed she was indeed “a looker” after his under-the-breath exclamation of “Cor!” when he first saw her. If catching the eye of one of the Tracy men was anywhere in the realm of possibility, then Olivia would be the one to hedge those bets. Her references didn't come from aristocracy, but they were solid and positive nonetheless. She turned out to be a bit flighty in person, but as none of her references had any complaints, and her competency had been proven to the Network, Penelope assumed the girl was just nervous for the interview.

Maria Anderson was the best qualified when it came to the health aide part of the job, having an LVN certification where the others had only the CNA. Her British father died when she was seven and she had been raised by her Mexican-American mother in Los Angeles on the Pacific coast of the United States. Her mother had passed just recently and she'd come to London to see her father's homeland. Since everyone on Tracy Island (with the possible exception of Brains) could relate to losing both parents, her orphan status might make up for the fact that her only employer references were from a preschool where she had been an assistant teacher. She had no experience as an LVN beyond caring for her own terminally-ill mother. She was a bit too informal for the standards of the Creighton-Wards, but as Mrs. Tracy was not a Creighton-Ward, Miss Anderson got a pass on that account.

Penelope wrote down all the notes that came to mind from her own interviews, but this was just a courtesy. Mrs. Tracy would conduct her own interviews and make her own decision.

 

* * *

 

Less than two weeks from the time she'd visited Lady Penelope to discuss her need, Sally received the emailed files of three superbly-qualified candidates, along with the London agent's personal impressions on each one. How in the world was Sally going to come to a decision? The first hurdle was telling the family. She didn't want to drop the full bombshell of her diagnosis on them just yet, but she also couldn't run off to London with the full intention of bringing a new employee back with her to Tracy Island and just yell “Surprise!” when she escorted her into a guest room.

She waited for an opportune moment when IR had no situations and called a family meeting in the lounge. Only John was missing, but he attended via holo-projection.

Sally stood in the centre of the room. It took a few seconds for all the little conversations among them to halt. When she had everyone's full attention, she drew a deep breath and blurted the whole thing out. “I'm going to London to hire a home health aide. She'll be coming back here to live with us. I expect you all to make her feel welcome.”

Predictably, Scott was the first to fire back his strong objection. “WHAT? We agreed not let any more outsiders on Tracy Island! We can't risk it with The Hood trying to infiltrate and undermine us.”

Before proceeding with her well-rehearsed rebuttal, she took a moment to size up the reactions of the others. Kayo and Virgil shot her sympathetic glances, but they appeared at a loss how to argue with Scott. Gordon and Alan nodded to Scott's words but managed a sheepish look when they met her eye. Brains and John remained stoically unreadable.

Sally made sure she kept her voice calm and low in volume. “This isn't about International Rescue, Scott. This is something _I_ need, for _me, personally_. I'm not getting any younger, you know.”

Scott switched to his Mr. Compassion persona he so often used on his missions, the one with the calm, reassuring tone that always made people who were frightened out of their wits trust him with their lives. “Then let _us_ help you, Grandma. We haven't been doing enough around here, but we can do better.”

This earned him some doubtful frowns and side-eyes. They were all so overworked already that the thought of promising more was wearisome. Yet, no one wanted to voice the idea that they didn't have the time or energy to take care of their own grandmother. Sally did it for them: “Oh really, Scott? You're going to give up _Thunderbird 1_ so you can always be here to help me to and from the restroom and make sure I take my pills on time?” She didn't quite need that level of help yet, but it probably wouldn't be too distant in the future when she would and this made her point so well that she didn't care it was fudging a little.

Alan and Gordon laughed. Virgil, John, and Kayo grinned. Scott's eyes betrayed how utterly he was gobsmacked. “I—uh—well...”

She let him off the hook with a patient smile. “Of course you're not, and neither are any of the rest of you. You have important work to do that no one else can do and it would be silly to neglect that when I can hire someone to come help me. It's either this or you put me in a nursing home.” She crossed her arms and looked around at all of them.

“No way,” Virgil declared. Head-shakes around the room proved this was not an option, which Sally had been reasonably sure of before she said it. If they'd put up with her horrible cooking for all these years, they weren't going to throw her out for needing a little help with simple everyday tasks.

Before there were any more arguments, she added, “Lady Penelope pre-screened all the applicants for us. The background checks were done by the same security people that vet employees for the royal family. I don't think The Hood could see this one coming. He wants Tracy Island and the _Thunderbirds_ , not some old lady's knickers.”

This earned another fit of giggles from Alan and Gordon, and even an embarrassed guffaw from Brains.

“We should still be careful,” Scott warned gravely.

“ _I_ will be,” Sally said. She wasn't really asking for their participation other than to make it an easy transition for the newcomer.

“I guess that settles that then,” Scott said. “Meeting over?”

“I'm done if you are,” Sally said.

As the family started to disperse, Virgil took her aside and quietly asked, “Do you need a ride to London?”

She smiled at him. “Not right this minute, Virgil. I'll have Lady Penelope schedule the interviews. If you're not busy when the time comes, I'll take you up on it. If you're on a mission, Parker can come get me in _FAB 1_.”

Virgil nodded, but he searched her eyes as if he wanted to ask something but didn't know how to broach it. Sally would have waited for him to say what he needed, but John broke the spell by announcing they had a situation and rambling off emergency details.

Sally emailed the candidates to tell them they had made the final three. She also told them a little more than Lady Penelope had about the job and who they would be working for. Although only one of them would end up hired on the day of their interviews, she asked them all to make preparations to be ready to come to Tracy Island, so she could bring her new guest home that day and not need another trip. As a final bit of test to help her decide, she asked each prospect to bring a five day menu and an actual sample of her cooking.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Interview day turned out to be a busy one for International Rescue. Sally decided it was just as well. She was going to have a hard enough decision as it was without one (or more) of the boys there. If they saw the candidates, their reactions might sway her choice, whether she wanted them to or not. With Parker picking her up, it also meant no one would be waiting around while she interviewed and therefore making her feel pressured to decide quickly.

Lady Penelope had all three candidates waiting together on her curved satin couches. She stood and greeted Sally. “Mrs. Tracy, so glad you made it safely.” She gestured to the women in turn as she introduced them. “This is Charlotte Walker, Olivia Thomas, and Maria Anderson.” They nodded as their names were spoken and Sally smiled at each one.

“Would you like to have tea with us before you start?” Lady Penelope asked.

“No thank you, dear.” She would never mention how the ride in _FAB 1_ was a bit more unsettling than the ride in any of the _Thunderbirds_. She never got as queasy as Brains did, but the thought of eating or drinking right now didn't sound appealing. To be fair, it could have just been nervous butterflies because of the interviews and had nothing to do with _FAB 1_ or Parker's flying. “I just want to get cracking.”

“Of course,” Lady Penelope said. “Who do you want first?”

Sally decided the order they'd been presented in the emails was probably best to keep everything from getting confusing. “Charlotte Walker.”

Lady Penelope swept her hand toward another room. Charlotte stood, picking up a messenger bag from the floor at her feet. Sally took a moment to take in what Charlotte was wearing. It was a crisp white, superbly tailored chef's coat with shiny gold buttons down both sides of the double breast and a mandarin collar. She also wore matching trousers, well-tailored and neatly pressed. The pocket had an embroidered emblem from that fancy culinary arts institute in Paris. Sally remembered seeing the crest on the degree in Charlotte's résumé. Without the crest, the clothes reminded her a bit of the uniform Kyrano used to wear.

The three of them headed to a small room appointed like a library or study, with a nice big desk for Sally and a comfortable chair for the interviewee.

“Shall I have Parker bring you anything?” Lady Penelope asked.

“I'm fine,” Sally said. “Miss Walker?”

“No thank you, ma'am,” the candidate said. Lady Penelope left and shut the door behind her. Charlotte waited for Sally to sit first before taking her seat. She then opened her messenger bag and pulled out a pink cardboard box and a thick presentation folder with gold embossed lettering. She handed the folder over to Sally.

At first, Sally thought it was a paper copy of her résumé, but on closer inspection, she discovered it was her menu. The cover looked like it had been designed for a super fancy French restaurant and inside were five days worth of meals, complete with pictures of the gourmet foods photographed on fine china aside 24 karat gold flatware and fine linen napkins. If Charlotte were ever to set the table like this on Tracy Island, there was at least a 60% chance only Brains and Sally would get to see it. How disappointed would she be when dinner wasn't carried out on schedule so often? However, it turned out to be a good thing the foods had been photographed because Sally didn't recognise most of the names of the recipes. Where would she even be able to buy these kinds of ingredients when Tracy Island supply runs mainly consisted of warehouse stores? Lady Penelope was right. This woman would never be happy until she was working for Buckingham Palace.

“Wow, this is some fancy cooking,” Sally remarked as she leafed through the menu. “Tell me, do you know how to make anything a little less...”

“Pretentious?” Charlotte finished for her.

“I was going to say 'gourmet.'”

“Yes, I know how to make simpler dishes than these, of course. What does your family prefer?”

“Er—” Sally didn't want to insult the extraordinary chef sitting in front of her, but she had already decided she wasn't the right candidate, so there was no reason not to be completely honest either. The first thing that came to mind was the barbecue they'd just had last week. The boys probably liked it so much because Sally didn't do the cooking, not because it was their favourite foods. “Hot dogs and hamburgers.”

The look on Charlotte's face said more than any words could and only served to confirm she was definitely not the one to hire. Sally felt a little badly that she'd wasted the woman's time.

“I see,” the culinary arts master said diplomatically. “Well, how about a simple dessert then? Surely the Tracys must like biscuits.” She placed the pink box on the desk and opened it to reveal four different coloured macarons sitting on a lacy paper doily, looking like they had come from some hoity toity French bakery.

“Miss Walker, you have no idea how low the bar is set for cookies at my house.” Sally picked up the pink macaron and took a small bite, just to be polite. The light cloud of pastry melted in her mouth and practically exploded with raspberry deliciousness. How in the world was she going to tell this chef that she was over-qualified?

“They're very tasty, dear. Thank you for sharing them. It's clear you're very adept as a cook and baker. But to tell the truth, the home health aide part is going to be most important in my decision.” Not because Sally needed those skills more at the moment but because she was still pretty sure she would have to continue to justify the outsider-living-among-them concept to Scott for a while. They'd lived so long without a cook already that it would be a tough sell to make the case for hiring a cook with Mr. Paranoid.

Charlotte looked stunned momentarily and then tried to regain some semblance of her composure. “Oh. Well, you asked for the menu and the food sample so I just thought...”

Sally nodded. She could see why Charlotte would have assumed that and since it was playing to her strengths, it had to be a shock to be told it wasn't really going to help her. Although the interview was a moot point by now, Sally didn't want to be abrupt. “Why don't you tell me about the kind of care you provided for the viscount.”

Charlotte mostly repeated what she had written on her résumé and the job application, which didn't reveal much other than her CNA certification was valid and she could act the home health aide even if it wasn't her forte. However, her heart was clearly no longer in the interview process anymore, so Sally only asked a few shallow questions and let her return to the parlor with the others with a request to send in Olivia Thomas next.

Lady Penelope brought the next candidate to the door of the study. Standing side-by-side, Sally could see that Miss Thomas had a fashion sense equal to Penelope's. This young woman was what would have been called a “knock out” in Sally's day. She had on a stylish yellow dress that showed off her very shapely legs and she carried a briefcase that was either made of real leather or a very good copy. After Lady Penelope made sure they didn't need anything and left them alone, Olivia sat down.

“Did you bring your menu, dear?” Sally asked. It was a relatively harmless way to put her at ease and get started.

Olivia rummaged in her briefcase and pulled out a file folder with five loose pieces of paper in it, each with a day's menu printed on it. The names of the foods were recognisable this time but evidently she didn't realise the Tracys were not strictly British in their tastes and habits. _The boys could eat this_ , Sally thought to herself. It would seem odd at first, but not completely alien like Charlotte's cooking would have been. Virgil might like steak and kidney pie and Gordon would love the fish and chips, but she wasn't so sure about the haggis and the Yorkshire pudding. It wouldn't take long before the beans at breakfast would be discontinued, but it was possible that the Scotch eggs might travel almost as well as bagels for those breakfasts on the go that often ended up eaten in a cockpit while flying toward a mission.

Olivia's cooking sample was shepherd's pie, which wasn't especially good cold, but still better than anything Sally ever made. Her cooking would do, but this girl looked like one of those social butterfly types. Was she truly ready to leave all her friends and admirers (of which there were no doubt many)?

“So how do you feel about living out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with no civilisation in sight?”

“Oh, I love Hawaii. It's civilised well enough for me.”

 _Hawaii? Where in the world did she get the idea this job was in Hawaii?_ “Well, we're not exactly in Hawaii, dear. We live on a private island that's about seven thousand kilometres from Hawaii with no one else but our family and a few trusted employees.” Not that she considered Brains or Kayo to be mere employees. But this girl was obviously a little thick not to have figured this out after Sally had explained the location quite clearly in the last email.

“But it has night life, doesn't it?”

Sally had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. “Miss Thomas, what do you know about International Rescue?”

“Aren't they that sizzling new band?”

“Oh, I'm so sorry. There's been a bit of a mix-up. We're the search and rescue organisation, not the band. Ever hear of the _Thunderbirds_?”

Sally could tell by the look on her face that she probably thought “Thunderbirds” was some hot nightclub, but after the last misunderstanding, she was afraid to say so. How did she ever get through Lady Penelope's interview? She was even worse than that boob who argued with Brains about merpeople building Atlantis. Scott would probably question her CNA certification and Sally could hardly blame him. She might have done okay with some other families who let her play on the weekends and have a full social life, but Sally doubted Olivia could handle the isolation of Tracy Island.

She asked a few more standard questions, like she had done for Charlotte, just to make her decision seem like it was based on more information. The truth was, Sally was worried that only having one candidate left was going to be a problem. What if Miss Anderson didn't make the cut either? Would she have to go through another round of interviews, complete with another round of arguing with Scott?

She took a break and let Parker bring her some tea to drink with her macarons and cold shepherd's pie. Lady Penelope popped in. “Is everything all right, Mrs. Tracy?”

She sighed. “I've eliminated the first two young ladies if you want to send them home. I just need a few minutes to gather some strength to talk to the last one.”


	4. Chapter 4

Maria Anderson sat on Lady Penelope's couch, petrified. Sally Tracy, who was grandmother to all the famous Tracys who piloted the _Thunderbirds_ , was the one hiring the home health aide. Her email had said cleaning and cooking would also be integral to the job, but Maria never dreamed she would be going up against a chef from some elite cooking school in Paris. Furthermore, it appeared at first that Maria had chosen her clothes badly for the interview. The chef wore a fancy embroidered uniform and the beautiful fashionista wore a designer dress and shoes that probably cost more than six months' rent. And here sat Maria, the uncultured American, wearing ciel blue scrubs and somewhat scuffed trainers. She had been calculating a way to escape the embarrassment of going through with the interview until Mrs. Tracy showed up wearing a purple tracksuit. The scrubs didn't feel quite so out of place against that tracksuit.

Now, the other two candidates had been told they were no longer under consideration and could take their things and go. Both of them had brought piles and piles of luggage for in case they were hired. Maria didn't even own that much luggage, much less anything to put inside it. If those two refined and proper English girls didn't impress Mrs. Tracy, what hope did Maria have? She wanted nothing more than to disappear right now. But Lady Penelope was so nice and Maria couldn't think of a polite way to make a break for it.

Her turn in the interview room came despite trying to wish it away. She was so numb with anxiety that she initially forgot her tablet and the insulated lunch bag that held her cooking sample and had to run back to grab them while the elegant Lady Penelope stood in the hall, probably rolling her eyes. Maria's biggest comfort was that the humiliation would probably be brief. The other two interviews had been very short, so her getaway was sure to be soon.

As she sat down, she considered apologising for the scrubs, but every way she could think of to mention it also sounded insulting to Mrs. Tracy's tracksuit. Besides, was it really that unreasonable for a home health aide to wear scrubs? She probably wasn't going to get this job, but that was no call to give them any more criticisms to use against her. Maria could do quite a thorough job of tearing down her own self-esteem, thank you very much.

“You look like I'm about to eat you alive,” Mrs. Tracy said jokingly. Her warm smile gave Maria the courage to plough on.

“I'm very nervous. I really want this job,” she said aloud, _but I feel so inadequate_ , she finished in her head. Had she known when she first applied that it was for the famous Tracy family, she would never have bothered. The Tracys were pilots and astronauts and super-mega-altruistic heroes that saved the world more regularly than Maria took out the garbage. Maria was a nobody, from a fairly long line of nobodies.

“Well, right now, you're the top applicant!”

Surely it was a mistake that she had even been third. However, she recognised Mrs. Tracy was trying to put her at ease, and that was considerate enough that Maria tried very hard to relax.

“Why don't we start with your menus?” Mrs. Tracy held out her hand.

It was then that Maria saw the menus the other two applicants had brought, now sitting on the desk. Actual paper. One of them bound in a fancy folder with gold lettering too. “I'm sorry. I didn't realise you wanted hard copies. Mine are just on this.” Maria held up her tablet.

“Oh, that's fine,” Mrs. Tracy said reassuringly. “All this paper is just going to get shredded anyway. Such a waste! Can you holo-project from that thingy?”

“Of course,” Maria said. She would never have expected someone of Mrs. Tracy's age to read on the small screen, even with those thick glasses. Besides, how would she navigate if it wasn't holo-pages? Maria hurriedly found the file, projected it to eye level, and set the tablet on the desk. “Uh, I didn't know what dietary restrictions you need to follow, so I made up menus for diabetic, coeliac, vegan, and lactose intolerance. Just wave through until you find the right one. I can also work around most food allergies. I just need to know in advance what you're sensitive to.”

“Oh my. I didn't realise I was making this so hard. No one on Tracy Island has any special restrictions at all.” She glanced down at the fancy bound menu and chuckled lightly. “Except, maybe, it needing to be something I can pronounce.”

Could her standards possibly be that lax? “Try the last one then.”

Maria hadn't spent as much time trying to add impressive recipes to her standard menu because she'd spent the majority of her time trying to make the restrictive ones more appealing. It was just typical middle-class Southern California grub: spaghetti, tacos, casseroles, soup, and sandwiches. But the longer Mrs. Tracy studied it, the more inadequate Maria felt. She needed to divert her attention to something else. Quick.

“Do you want to try my breakfast burrito?” Maria ripped open the velcro on her insulated lunch bag and pushed aside the sugar-free, lactose-free, gluten-free muffin she'd brought and instead pulled out the egg, sausage, and potato burrito tucked safe in a reusable silicone zippy envelope. It was still warm which meant it should still be soft.

Mrs. Tracy accepted it. She peeled back the envelope and bit into the burrito. Considering that many breakfast burritos where Maria came from had spicy chorizo, jalapeños, and hot sauce, she thought it was very adventurous of Mrs. Tracy to chomp down with such gusto. Maria just kept her fingers crossed that it wouldn't be followed by the poor woman running to the trash bin to spit it out.

“Oh my, the boys would _love_ these,” she said. “You definitely have great cooking skills. Unfortunately, I have to play that down a bit until I convince my oldest grandson, Scott, that you're not an agent of The Hood. You're not, are you?”

Her bluntness made Maria smile. “No. Why, does The Hood like burritos?”

“I have no idea. But he _has_ tried twice already to send spies into our ranks. Which is why I had Lady Penelope run such extensive background checks. Yours says you've been to Stephen Q. Watson College of Medicine, which I understand is pretty prestigious. So why didn't you mention that anywhere on your application or your résumé?”

Maria's smile evaporated and her stomach sank. She thought that chapter of her life was all behind her now, except for the student loan debt. She fought to maintain control of the emotions bursting to boil over. A hard swallow was the best she could manage before pushing on with this train wreck.

“Because I flunked out. Couldn't hack it as a doctor. I didn't mention it because I didn't think you needed to know all the things I failed at.” She almost blurted out a bitter remark that she had bombed her tenth grade choir audition as well, but she stopped her tongue just in time. She couldn't go down the rabbit hole of all her failures or she'd end up looking like a fool. _Get a_ _ **grip**_ _, Maria. This nice old lady doesn't care about your stupid problems._ “I simply thought my LVN was good enough.”

“Oh, it is. The other two candidates only had CNAs. You have the LVN plus...” she consulted Maria's CV again. “A bachelor of science in biochemistry.”

Disappointment washed over her like a tidal wave. “So I'm overqualified?”

“No, you're exactly what I want. That LVN will probably work in your favour with my paranoid grandson. But I'd never want to prevent someone from pursuing a dream.” She pointed to the fancy menu on the desk. “Miss Walker should be working at Windsor Castle or something. We wouldn't appreciate her unique talents on Tracy Island and it wouldn't help her get where she wants to go in life. I'm not sure where Miss Thomas belongs, but she's definitely not suited to the isolation. I didn't turn either of them down because they weren't qualified, but because they wouldn't be happy with us. So, my question is, do you still want to be a doctor?”

Maria sighed. “I _never_ really wanted to be a doctor. My mother pushed me into that because she figured it was the only way I could make a decent living. It broke her heart when I dropped out, but I was relieved.” This answer didn't seem to bother Mrs. Tracy, and that boosted Maria's hope.

“So then you taught preschool a while. What happened with that dream?”

Maria chuckled. “That wasn't so much a _dream_ as a way to pay the bills. When my mother got sick, I had to figure out how to make payments on my student loans, pay our rent, and still have time to take care of her. Working at an inner-city preschool and getting the loan deferment worked better for me than anything else I could do at the time.” She was actually lucky to have taken child development classes as electives in university. Of course, she thought at the time she took them, it would be useful for a future career in paediatrics.

“The director at the preschool said in her reference letter that you learned Russian and sign language to talk to your students. She was very impressed. Why didn't you put _that_ on your résumé?”

Maria scoffed lightly. “I didn't learn that much. Almost everyone in Los Angeles speaks Spanish, which I did mention I speak a little because my grandparents on my mother's side spoke it. I only took Latin in school, which helps with sciences, but not at all in talking to anybody from this century.”

She took a breath and resumed, trying to answer the question as honestly as possible without making this out to be any big deal. “When a three-year old would come in to the preschool and only spoke Spanish, we could all talk to him or her just fine. But when little Ivan came and only spoke Russian, he was all alone. Can you imagine how scary it would be to be dropped off in a strange place with strange people that only talk complete gibberish? So I took it upon myself to learn enough Russian that Ivan wouldn't feel so scared. Just 'good morning' and 'would you like to play with us?' and 'do you need to use the potty?'. Simple, little-boy stuff. Ivan learned English far faster than I could ever get the right pronunciation to 'zdrast-ve-tcha'.” The Russian word for 'hello' was actually one she'd worked very hard getting as close to correct as she could, but she never kidded herself that she would sound good to a native past the age of three. “I can't hold a conversation or read in Russian or anything like that, certainly not enough to claim fluency.” The director had known that. It was nothing. Why did she even mention it?

Maria was going to stop there but Mrs. Tracy kept looking at her expectantly. _Oh right, the ASL._ “It was almost the same thing when we got a little deaf girl. She had an interpreter who was with her all the time, so she didn't have it as bad as Ivan, but I wanted to be able to communicate personally, so I asked the interpreter to teach us all some signs. Even the other children learned them. It was no big deal, really. I'm not fluent in ASL either.”

Mrs. Tracy nodded amiably. She seemed satisfied. “So after your mother passed—I'm so sorry, by the way—why didn't you go back to teaching?”

“I always liked working with children, but I was already near the limit for deferring my student loan. Plus, I really dislike living in the city. Any city. London is just as bad as L.A. was. I thought I did all right taking care of my mother. Home health care doesn't have the stress that being a doctor does. So I took the LVN test and then I applied through the Distinguished Domestics with the hope I could find someone out in the country who would hire me on. But you live on an island in the tropics! That's better than I could have ever hoped for. I love the ocean so much.”

“And what about the social aspect? We're really isolated.”

As far as Maria was concerned, isolation was a bonus, not a disadvantage. _Stick to what's important to the client, not to you, Maria_. “I get along fine with most people one-on-one. It was never my patients who had any complaints, by the way. It's crowds and institutions like hospitals” _and power-hungry Clinical Rotation Directors_ , she added bitterly in her mind, “that I have a hard time with.”

Mrs. Tracy smiled and leafed through her application, no doubt looking for another angle to trip her up. “Well, then, all we need to do is settle on a salary. This doesn't look right...”

Maria cringed. That stupid student loan was going to ruin her life _again_. She felt compelled to explain it wasn't greed. “I'm _so_ sorry. That's the absolute minimum I can accept and still make my loan payments.”

“Oh, I didn't mean it was too much. I meant that you asked for less than the other two, and they didn't have near your qualifications.”

“I didn't go to the fancy French cooking school.” Why she felt she had to defend the chef, she wasn't sure. It was just reflex.

“No, you went to Stephen Q. Watson. My boys don't need” she glanced again at the menu and then continued in a stilted, not-even-trying-to-sound-French pronunciation: “kahn-fit dee kay-nard.” It took Maria a second to realise she meant _confit de canard_. “I only told Lady Penelope to find someone who can cook better than me, which is practically everyone. I'm adding fifty percent to the salary you requested. Deal?” She extended her hand.

Maria's jaw dropped. “I got the job?”

“If you still want it.” There was a sparkle in the old woman's eyes behind her thick purple-framed glasses.

Maria grabbed her hand and shook firmly. “Absolutely! Thank you so much, Mrs. Tracy.”

“You can call me Sally. Except maybe in front of Scott. For a while at least.”

She sounded like she was a little frustrated with Scott. If Maria wasn't mistaken, Scott was the one she'd seen doing an interview once, but she couldn't be certain. There were too many Tracy men and she was bad with names. She resolved to do better. But for the present, she was so elated to get the job that she felt a bit of her sense of humour returning. “What should I call you in front of Scott? Your Majesty?” Even though it was a joke, Maria would have no qualms addressing her employer that way if she so desired. Right now, Sally Tracy was Empress of the World, no, the entire Universe.

“Oh, ha, ha! Maybe we should both call _him_ that.”


	5. Chapter 5

Sally couldn't help but smile at this young woman's excitement. It was obvious she had some major issues with self-confidence, but she seemed perfect for the job otherwise. Sally was glad, once again, that she'd taken _FAB 1_ to get here because she still needed to brief Maria on all the weird quirks of the job she was taking on. Any Tracy boy who would have been waiting would already be antsy to get back in the sky by now. Sally fully intended to take her time and be well-prepared before they left London. However, she had limits on sitting in one place for too long.

“I need to use the ladies' room,” she announced, rising from her seat. “Then how about we go for a walk around the grounds and chat some more?”

“That sounds lovely. Do you need any help?” Maria also stood. The look on her face was pure concern, but not in any way disparaging.

Sally would have to remember that she _hired_ Maria to do exactly what she was offering. In fact, she would have to start accepting help at home whether she felt the need or not, lest this whole scheme fall apart. “Not this time, dear. I'll explain it all when we go for that walk. You can tell Parker to put your things in _FAB 1_ though. I'll just be a minute.”

When she emerged from the ladies' room, Maria was assuring Parker that he'd already taken all of her luggage out. Sally heard Parker mutter, “Just _two_ bags? Milady brings more than that for one night.”

“Did Miss Anderson tell you that I hired her?” Sally asked Lady Penelope.

“She did indeed. Can't say I'm surprised.” She had that look in her eye that implied she had known when there were still forty-seven candidates that Sally would pick this one. “Back to Tracy Island then?”

“Not yet. Would it be all right if we took a stroll in your lovely rose garden, dear?”

“Oh, absolutely. My roses are spectacular this year and nobody has seen them to appreciate all the pruning work Parker did. Are you all right on your own then?”

Sally smiled. “I have help now. We'll be fine.” Maria offered an elbow and they walked out together with Sally leaning on her new aide's arm.

When they were alone, Sally drew a deep breath. “I haven't told anyone else about my diagnosis, not even Lady Penelope or my grandsons. Does an LVN have the same obligation to keep patient secrets as a doctor?”

Maria used her free hand to pat the top of Sally's hand in the crook of her elbow. “We do. But even if we didn't, I would hold anything you told me as a sacred trust.”

This young woman had been to medical school, so there would be no easing into this like there might be when she told others. There was simply no way to beat about the bush, so she charged in, full steam. “I have Truflun's Disease. Stage four.”

“I'm so sorry.”

“Thank you, but that's really not the worst of it. They caught it just after my son Jeff's accident. My doctors begged me to get treatment and they may have been able to cure it completely back then, but I refused because I didn't want to be away from my boys when they had just become orphans. By the way, I still call them 'my boys' but they're my grandsons and they're all adults now. So where was I? Even if they cure Truflun's in the early stages, there's a price to pay. It's no way to live.”

Some said the treatment for Truflun's was as bad as chemotherapy or radiation, worse, because the side effects were often permanent. A crippling cure that could leave someone bedridden was worse than the disease itself, to Sally's thinking. “I did what I had to, to be with my family and help them through a rough time. I have no regrets.”

They both stopped to look at a row of roses. Lady Penelope was right. Spectacular was exactly the right word for them.

“That's not a decision I'd wish on anyone.” Maria hesitated, her face reflecting concern and possibly confusion. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't Jeff Tracy's death quite a few years ago, ma'am?”

Sally chuckled. “We Tracys are a stubborn bunch. It was seven years ago. They told me then I had three years at most. I beat the odds, but it's catching up to me now. My doctor just said a month ago it was down to six-to-nine months, but I'll probably make it another year or two, just to prove him wrong again.”

“You show them! What can I do to help?”

“You're doing it just by agreeing to come to Tracy Island. I can stay with my family longer this way. You'll be taking over what I've been doing, or in the case of cooking, what I've been muddling through badly. We used to have a full-time cook and housekeeper, back in the old days. His name was Kyrano. He was Kayo's father. Kayo is sort of my adopted granddaughter and head of security for International Rescue.” She only said _sort of_ because she still held out a little ray of hope that one day Kayo and Alan might act on their obvious mutual attraction, at which point it would be a little weird for them to still consider themselves brother and sister. But Maria didn't need to hear any gossip about Kayo and Alan from her.

Sally hurried along with her explanation. “She and Brains, that's our Head Engineer, are part of our family. We all live together and work together. Because I haven't told anyone else how close I am to dying, I'm kind of sneaking you in under the radar. I just told them I need help because I'm old and my body is giving out. Which is true, just not the _whole_ truth.”

“It's not my place to tell them anything,” Maria said. “If you want me to, I'll go with you when you tell them and back you up. I daresay I know a bit more about the side effects of the treatment you refused than they probably do.”

“I may take you up on that. When I'm ready.” Sally yearned to, but didn't dare mention how much she hoped Maria would stay on Tracy Island after her death. International Rescue needed someone with a medical background to keep them from overworking and maybe as a consultant when they rescued those who were badly injured. But they would have to see that need for themselves. If Sally tried to push on that account, especially when the boys still had so many trust issues, it was sure to fail. If by the time Sally breathed her last, there was no invitation for Maria to employ her medical skills through International Rescue, she would probably be insulted to be asked to stay as merely the cook and housekeeper. Unfortunately, the probability of losing her later was the price Sally felt she had to pay in order to placate Scott in the present. She knew she needed to let go of trying to manage the future past her death, but it was so hard.

 _Time to change the subject._ “The other thing we need to talk about is your peace of mind. For all of us, Tracy Island is home, but it's probably going to take a while for you to feel that way. You need to know that any one of the boys or Kayo would always be willing to fly you off the island if you need to, or even if you just want to get away. If you don't feel like you can ask one of them, then you can call Lady Penelope. I mean it. Any time of the day or night. I don't ever want you to feel like you're trapped.”

“Funny you should put it that way. I felt trapped most of my life and now I finally feel free. Thank you for caring about my peace of mind, but I'm sure I'll be fine.”

 

* * *

______________________________________

The flight from London to Tracy Island didn't take nearly as long as Maria expected. Lady Penelope had a pastel pink car they called _FAB 1_ with six wheels that could turn into jets and make it fly. Parker sat up front and flew the car with Maria and Sally in the back. It was already the next day when they arrived because the island was on the other side of the International Date Line, but it was so much earlier in the day that it felt more like going back in time than going forward. The island was small, but so lush and beautiful that it took Maria's breath away. She was going to live here? Surely she had to be dreaming. The Tracys' house was huge and had massive walls of glass that looked out over the sparkling Pacific.

Parker spoke up from the front: “Where do you want me to put her down, Mrs. Tracy, ma'am?”

“Tell Brains to open the door for _Thunderbird 2_.”

“Very good. _FAB 1_ to Tracy Island.” His voice changed in tone, but not in volume. Maria couldn't detect any switch to radio, but a holo-image of a dark-skinned young man with blue glasses popped up near the dashboard. She studied the image and tried to associate it with what Sally had said before. _Brains: Head Engineer._

“T-Tracy Island reading you, _FAB 1_. G-Go ahead.”

“Mrs. Tracy says I should come in through Mr. Virgil's door.”

The holo-image nodded and then reached to operate some unseen control. “Island d-defenses deactivated. You're clear to land.”

Two rows of palm trees literally uprooted and flipped backward to uncover a concealed runway, then a big hunk of rock face rolled around and revealed a hole to the inside of a cave-hangar. _Thunderbird 2_ wasn't inside, but a row of green cargo modules stood waiting just inside the entrance. Maria felt a surge of pure excitement. She tried hard not to gawk, but the big red _Thunderbird 3_ rocket looming in the corner made it pretty impossible.

Parker pulled Maria's two suitcases out of the boot and offered to take them upstairs but Sally said it wasn't necessary. She thanked him for the ride from London. He hurried off to get back to his lady. Maria grabbed her own luggage and followed Sally, but she stopped and indicated to drop it.

“Never do heavy lifting if there's a Tracy boy nearby that can do it for you,” she intoned sagely. Apparently hearing evidence someone else was home, she yelled upward, “Alan? Gordon? Who's up there? We need some help down here.”

Two blond-haired young men came bolting down the stairs. They were both dressed casually in cut-offs, one in a Hawaiian print shirt and the other wearing a green tee. “Gordon Tracy, Alan Tracy, this is Maria Anderson, my new home health aide.” Maria nodded to them, still not sure which was which. _¡Ay, caramba!_ they were so extremely handsome.

“Pleased to meet you,” she managed to somehow squeak out.

They both smiled and instantly multiplied their already-exceptional attractiveness by tenfold. It was like looking at the sun, brilliant and totally awesome, but way too bright to gaze upon for any length of time.

“Kayo's finally getting another girl in the house to even the odds,” the blue-eyed fox said.

“We still outnumber them five-to-three, bro,” the Hawaiian shirted hottie retorted. “Six when we can lure John down here.”

“All right, you two,” Sally interrupted their bantering. “Save the chit-chat for another time and take her luggage up to the guest room across the hall from mine, will you?”

“No problem, Grandma,” said one while “You got it,” simultaneously came from the other. They each grabbed a suitcase and started up the stairs.

The ladies took up the climb from behind them. Sally used the rail on one side and accepted her aide's steadying arm on her other side. _How was she doing this by herself before?_ Maria wondered. She concentrated on helping Sally so as not to stare at the very fine examples of glutei maximi that happened to be flexing right at her eye level. Thankfully, Alan and Gordon quickly made their way out of even accidental line-of-sight.

It was one flight up to the kitchen, which Sally announced without stopping, then another flight up to what she called “the lounge”, where they also didn't stop, but had to navigate around to a third staircase at the back of the house which took them up to the bedrooms.

The two young men had already dropped off Maria's luggage and were on their way back down the hall. “Anything else, Grandma?” one asked.

“No, we're good, boys,” Sally said.

The guys chorused, “F.A.B.” and disappeared as fast as they had appeared. Maria willed herself not to watch them go.

Sally indicated which room was hers and which was Maria's, then she yawned. “I think I'm going to take a little nap, dear. Why don't you get your things unpacked and rest a while. Then we'll go down to the kitchen and get started.”

“All right. You just yell if you need anything.” Maria decided the remark was superfluous. Her new boss didn't seem to have any trouble speaking her mind and with good volume. “I mean that for always,” she added.

“Deal!” Sally grinned and shut her door.

Maria looked around at her room. It was huge, well-appointed, and even had a private bathroom. But all of that paled in comparison to the giant window that looked out to the ocean. Not even the richest people in Malibu had a view like this. Or so she assumed. It wasn't as if she'd ever been invited to a Malibu residence before. Lady Penelope had a larger house, a very nice formal garden, and the few rooms of furnishings Maria had seen were quite impressive, but Creighton-Ward Manor would forever be counted inferior without this spectacular view.

She unpacked her suitcases and placed most of her clothes in the bureau. She had eight sets of ciel scrubs, two pairs of well-worn jeans, a couple pairs of bermuda shorts, and various faded tee shirts. She only had two items to hang in the closet: a black pencil skirt with matching blazer, and a tea-length muu muu in a bright turquoise with white hibiscus flowers and ferns. She hadn't had the occasion to wear the muu muu since her college graduation, but she never quite had the heart to toss it in the second-hand bin either. Besides the trainers she was wearing, she had a pair of rubber flip-flop jandals to wear when she went swimming and a pair of brown leather Birkenstocks to cover any other occasion.

Toiletries were stashed in the bathroom cabinet. A scant few personal items made it into the drawers and her biologically realistic _architeuthis_ squid plushie ended up atop the bed pillow. He was a full metre from fin to tentacle tip, one tenth the size of a real architeuthis.

She placed the empty suitcases under the bed and then indulged her desire to simply sit and stare at the vast, beautiful ocean from a window she could sort-of claim as her own. Idly, she stroked Archie, as she affectionately named the giant squid plushie. She often pretended he was a dog, something she'd always wanted but never been able to have because her landlords never allowed pets. The patterns of light and foam on the crests of the swells and the golden sunshine hypnotised her into a deeply relaxed state. She couldn't have said whether it had been minutes or hours before Sally rapped lightly on the open door and broke the spell.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Sally saw Maria poised on her bed, clutching her childhood toy and looking longingly out the window. Concern flooded her mind and she acted on it impulsively. "Already feeling homesick?"

Maria shook her head and her melancholy mood vanished. "For what, London? Los Angeles? I don't have anyone or anything in either place, certainly not a home." She stood up and straightened the covers. "I just love the ocean. Sorry. Have you been waiting long?"

"No apology necessary, dear. I'm glad you like the view. Ready to tackle some cooking?"

Maria glanced into the mirror and tucked a few errant hairs back into compliance. She wore her brown tresses in a tight bun like Colonel Casey, not the kind Brains' professor friend, Moffy, wore, where bangs and stray hairs stuck out all over as part of the style. Maria looked down at her clothes and then back at Sally. "Are scrubs okay to wear all the time? I should have asked before if you wanted me to change."

Sally dismissed it with an indifferent wave. "Oh, that's fine. You wear whatever makes you comfortable."

"Great! Just going to grab..." She hopped over to the bureau and opened a drawer, then pulled out a white apron. Maria threw the top loop over her head as she walked toward the door and tied the side belts behind her back as she walked.

Sally pulled out of the doorway and started down the hall. They headed down to the kitchen, this time taking a little more time between floors for Sally to point out rooms and make comments. They found Brains alone in the lounge, talking to Scott and Virgil over the comms. They were too busy with serious rescue business to interrupt for introductions. Besides, Sally didn't want Scott or Virgil to meet her first via holo-projection, so she held back, out of range of Brains' pickup.

Maria watched the conversation with what appeared to be rapt attention. She leaned in to Sally and whispered, "They're not in birth order, are they?"

It took a second to realise Maria was looking at the portraits  _behind_  the holo-projections. Sally had never given it much thought, but of course, most normal families would display portraits in birth order. She laughed a little louder than she intended, but Brains was too deep in engineering mode to notice.

Sally whispered back, "Nope.  _Thunderbird_  order. But Kayo is 'Shadow', not six." It occurred to her that there was a lot more to unpack here than just the fact the pictures were displayed in an odd order. Maria might not even realise that sixteen-year-old face in the middle was Alan, whom she'd met just an hour ago; he'd grown so much. Tempting as it was to linger and reminisce, she stopped herself and steered Maria down to the kitchen.

"The first thing we should make is cookies," Sally announced.

"Cookies? But isn't it lunch time?" Maria asked.

"Everyone around here eats when they can. We'll make some lunch if anyone shows up, but cookies will get their attention no matter what. I promise." Besides, Sally was pretty sure non-burnt cookies would endear Maria to her family like nothing else. No more nasty charcoal discs that tasted like feet.

"You're the boss," Maria said enthusiastically.

"So I know I'm probably in your way, but I think it might be a good idea if we sell you as 'helping me' for a little while before I let you loose alone. Don't worry, they'll know it's really you."

Her aide shrugged. She probably couldn't imagine just how bad Sally's cookies really were. Nobody could. So they used Sally's recipe and Maria did indeed help, first by pointing out the difference between teaspoon and tablespoon, then by setting the oven temperature (what? Sally always thought the stupid contraption only did 'off' and 'on') and then by using a timer and watching them through the window (who knew there was a light in there?). The cookies came out like something from a magazine, which Sally knew was an old-fashioned thing to even think because magazines were a thing of the past.

It didn't look like anyone but Brains was around to eat lunch, so Maria made him a sandwich and sent it up via MAX. Sally decided they should get a head start on making a great dinner. Supplies were getting low, but she had two pounds of dry spaghetti and a large jar of sauce. Maria's menu had mentioned spaghetti, so she probably knew how to make it so you could twirl it on a fork rather than the congealed lump of fused semolina that had to be cut with a knife that Sally often ended up with.

"How about this for dinner?" Sally asked as she pulled the packages out of the cupboard.

"Uh, okay," Maria said, but she sounded dubious. The two of them stared at each other for an awkward moment.

"We can't start it now," Maria said. "Dried pasta only takes fifteen minutes to cook once the water's boiling. How about we make some French bread to go with it? It could be done by dinnertime."

" _Make_  bread? You mean like kneading dough?"

Maria chuckled. "I was going to cheat with your automated kitchen module." She nodded to the machine in the corner. "Or does it not work?"

"I think it works, if you know how to operate it, but I don't think we have any yeast." Sally knew for a fact they couldn't have yeast because she had never bought any. Ever.

"Then maybe I should take inventory of what you  _do_  have."

They went through all the cupboards and Maria took extensive notes on her tablet. After an hour, she sighed deeply. "We should be okay for tonight, and it looks like we have eggs and bacon for tomorrow morning, but I'm not sure what to do after that. You don't have a lot of the ingredients I need for the dishes I know how to make."

"Then we go shopping," Sally said simply.

The look on Maria's face implied she felt guilty for this, like it was  _her_  fault they didn't have much left in the house. "I—"

Sally held up a halting hand. "If you were about to apologise for not being able to cook without food, don't. I ran us empty on purpose. This way you can come with me and we'll be sure to get all the things you need."

Maria smiled again. "That's great. You should probably tell me the budget, so I can plan accordingly."

"Ha! The budget is: whatever we can cram into a cargo pod. We buy in bulk, but we can't take  _Thunderbird 2_  inside the warehouse store."

Maria laughed.

"The only trick will be fitting in a supply run in between rescues and operating hours. They're not open at 3 AM for some odd reason."

"But it's always operating hours  _somewhere_."

"True, but we also have to consider Virgil needing to sleep. Unless you forgot to put having pilot training on your résumé." She said it in jest, but if Maria turned out to be a pilot, Sally had two really big problems. The first one being that the background-check organisation needed to be reprimanded with extreme prejudice and the second one being Scott forevermore claiming the catbird seat for his paranoid assumptions turning out right. Again.

"Me, fly? Oh no. I couldn't even pass the eye test." She lifted her black rectangular framed glasses as if that proved anything. Sally knew glasses alone were not completely disqualifying except maybe in the military. Sally herself could fly and her glasses had much thicker lenses than Maria's. The fact Maria didn't know this put Sally's mind at ease, but she already planned a chat with Kayo later, just in case.

Since it was still too early to start dinner, she took Maria on a little tour of all the parts of the house they'd missed, plus the grounds.

"Wow, what a great lap pool," she exclaimed.

"Feel free to use it any time. Just don't freak out if it suddenly moves. It slides back when  _Thunderbird 1_  is coming and going." Sally pointed to the space where the pool slid out of sight so Maria could see swimming was still safe, assuming one didn't mind the claustrophobic quarters where she'd be stuck until it slid back.

"Good to know," Maria said. "I see there's also room for a garden here." She indicated the wooded area beyond the pool deck. "Have you tried growing herbs or anything?"

"Nope. My thumbs are black and no one else has time for gardening." She couldn't even remember if Kyrano had ever had time for that.

"Does that warehouse place we're going shopping at have seeds?"

"I never paid any attention, but if you're game to try your hand, we'll find seeds somewhere."

"I might have black thumbs too. I don't know. I always wanted a garden, but I never had any space to try it before."

"Our dirt is your dirt!" Sally declared. It would be kind of awesome if they could grow some food and didn't need as many supply runs.

Back up on the third level, she pointed out which bedroom belonged to whom, but she didn't open any of their doors. "You're not responsible for anything up here but me. They're all adults and can clean their own rooms." She almost made a joke about Gordon's pig sty, but decided it wasn't fair without him being there to defend himself. Maria would discover his slob habits soon enough on her own.

"What about linens?" Maria asked.

"If they want their sheets washed, they can put them in the laundry chute. We wash, dry, and fold, but we don't deliver."

"Sounds reasonable."

Maria made the spaghetti look just like it was supposed to, individual strands that twirled on a fork and unburnt marinara sauce to go with it. She even found a cylindrical cardboard container of granulated parmesan cheese in the depths of the refrigerator. They didn't have that homemade French bread she'd mentioned, but she took some sliced sandwich bread and made the best garlic and cheese toast Sally had ever tried. Gordon and Alan were still home when it was first ready and probably would have eaten all of it were it not for Sally insisting they leave some for Scott and Virgil. The fact that there was a plateful of the most delicious cookies in the universe helped keep the spaghetti safe.

"This is really good," Alan said more than once. Gordon echoed his sentiments.

"Amazing what I can do now that I have help," Sally reminded them. She winked at Maria who did more than just 'help' but was being a really great sport about letting the boys think Sally had anything to do with this great dinner.

Just then, Virgil came lumbering up the stairs from the hangar, sniffing the air like a bloodhound. "Did Scott take a detour for pizza again?"

"Hey, Virgil," Alan greeted his brother. "No, but you've got to try this spaghetti Maria made."

" _Helped_  your grandmother make," Maria corrected. She was carrying a fresh platter of spaghetti and marinara to the table like maybe she had heard when  _Thunderbird 2_  hit the hangar.

Sally stood. "Welcome home, Virgil. I want you to meet my home health aide. Maria Anderson—Virgil Tracy." She swept her arm towards Maria, who dipped her head in acknowledgment, still holding the platter of steaming food.

Her apologetic "Sorry I can't shake your hand just now," overlapped with Virgil gasping, "She can  _cook?_ " with the same utter surprise he might have shown if Alan had claimed she could time travel.

"Just a little," Maria said meekly.

Sally didn't challenge the misplaced humility because of the 'helping' story they'd agreed on. Better the boys learn this for themselves than anyone tell them.

Gordon, whose mouth was literally stuffed with chocolate chip deliciousness, added, "There's cookies too!  _Good_  cookies."

Maria chuckled at this. Virgil grinned from ear to ear and planted himself at the table. He piled his plate with spaghetti and cheese-garlic toast and then he tucked in, nom-nomming every so often as he chewed and hardly taking time to breathe.

Sally watched him, waiting for a moment when his mouth wasn't full before she tried to engage him. "I need you to take us both on a supply run as soon as you can, Virgil. Cooks need raw ingredients, you know."

"You got it, Grandma," he said.

Sally called Brains on comms, but he was working on something in his lab and didn't want to stop. He claimed the sandwich at lunch had been so filling he wasn't hungry.

Scott evidently got hung up on a mission, so Maria made a covered plate he could warm up later, assuming he didn't grab something while he was out. The boys had learned to do that over the years, since having anything edible at home was often hit-and-miss.

Kayo came up from the hangar just as Virgil and Gordon were finishing washing their dishes. Sally managed to corner her at the top of the stairs. She whispered, "How do you want me to introduce you to Maria? Tinusha Kyrano, Kayo Kyrano, or just Kayo?"

"Tinusha Kyrano. I'll do the rest."

She took a few more steps into the dining room. Sally cleared her throat. "Maria Anderson, please meet Tinusha Kyrano."

"You can call me Kayo," she said immediately as she extended her hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Kayo. Would you like some spaghetti that Sally and I made?"

"It's really good, Kayo," Virgil assured her.

She shook her head. "No thanks, but this garlic toast looks good." She grabbed a slice and took a crunchy bite. After two pieces of toast, she had one of the cookies.

Sally wasn't sure who mentioned it but one of the boys asked, "Should we send some spaghetti up to John?"

"Space elevator is retracted to  _Thunderbird 5_ ," Kayo informed them. "You want to chance waking him up to tell him to send it down?"

"Regular care package is tomorrow," Virgil said. "I'll ask him then."

The last of the food was put away with John's name on it. When the kitchen was clean, Sally sighed. "I'm pooped, how about you, Maria?"

"I'm fine, but let me help you up the stairs."

Sally whispered to Kayo to drop by her room later, then she bade her family good night and accepted Maria's help up the stairs. She knew full well they'd all probably talk about Maria once she and the aide were out of earshot, but that was okay. Maria had done pretty well for her first day. Sally's only regret was not getting the introduction to Scott out of the way.

When Kayo finally knocked, Sally had her come in and shut the door behind her.

"So, first thoughts on Maria?" Sally asked.

"Everyone likes her cooking," Kayo observed noncommittally.

"How could they not, after enduring mine all these years?" They shared a laugh. "I want to make sure you're not feeling like we've somehow forgotten your father."

Kayo scoffed. "Just the opposite, actually. Paying someone else to do the things my father used to do validates his position. His work here on Tracy Island was important and needed. You're confirming that."

"Did you feel like we didn't appreciate him when  _I_  was doing it?"

"No. This is your  _family_.  _Our family_. You stepped in when everyone was hurting and did the best you could." Kayo gave her a quick appraising glance and continued while barely losing a beat. "Still, I think you should have quit years ago."

Sally lowered her voice even more. "I think you're right. But no time like the present to fix past wrongs." She punctuated this by swinging a fist sideways.

Kayo nodded. She looked like she was ready to go, but Sally hadn't got to the important part yet. She drew a deep breath and spit it out. "Kayo, I feel like I can trust Maria, but just to be safe, you should do your Security thing and check her out for yourself. Here's everything I have." She dropped all Maria's files into Kayo's hands: the résumé, the application, the background check, Lady Penelope's notes, and her references. "Dig as deep as you want. Install some security cams around here—anywhere but bedrooms and bathrooms. That's private. Any other area is  _ours_  and fair game. You need to make sure you're covering all the blind spots, including mine. If you discover anything bad, could you please tell  _me_  before you tell Scott? Is that too much to ask?"

"Not at all. Thank you for trusting me to do my job."


	7. Chapter 7

After leaving Sally for the night, Maria sat on her bed, removed her glasses, and turned on the "crashing surf" white noise generator she always used for sleep. She wasn't physically tired, but she was totally spent mentally and there were still so many things to process.

So far, everyone she'd met had been welcoming and polite. They even gushed about her cooking when that entire dinner was questionable at best. Dried spaghetti with watery tomato sauce from a jar! Ugh and double ugh! Maria was certain Sally had coached everyone to compliment her cooking no matter what. There was no other possible explanation.

She catalogued all the data she had on who she had met so far. Kayo was easy as she was the only woman. Unfortunately, Sally had said her given name too fast and Maria was certain to flub that up if she ever had to recall it. The best she could remember, it started with a T and had three syllables.  _Tamika? Tonada?_   _Maria, you moron!_  Kayo was even more beautiful than the fashionista that interviewed right before Maria back at Lady Penelope's mansion. Furthermore, Kayo had the good sense to pass on the pitiful spaghetti. With a figure like hers, she probably ate like a bird all the time.

Maria could tell Gordon and Alan apart now. Gordon had brown eyes and Alan's were blue. It would be a lot easier to tell them apart if they just wore their uniforms. Alan's had a red sash. Gordon's was yellow. From the portraits hanging in the lounge, Maria could also now match Alan to  _Thunderbird 3_  and Gordon to  _Thunderbird 4_. That also meant Alan was the astronaut and Gordon was the aquanaut.

When she first saw Virgil in holo-projection, she didn't realise how broad his shoulders were. The first time she saw him in person, he looked exactly like the lumberjack spokesperson for a popular paper towel brand back in the States. He even wore the same red flannel shirt and everything.

By matching up various other bits of information, coupled with the helpful portraits in  _Thunderbird_  order, she also felt like she could recognise Scott and John if they ever turned up. John was the green-eyed ginger who seemed to never leave the space station,  _Thunderbird 5._ Scott had blue eyes, brown hair, and piloted  _Thunderbird 1_. Maria was still a little wary about Scott, mainly because of what Sally had said about him thinking she might be an agent of The Hood, but also because he seemed to be avoiding her. He and Virgil had been working together on a rescue, yet Virgil made it home long before Scott and from what she understood,  _Thunderbird 1_  was faster than  _Thunderbird 2_. Of course, there could have been another emergency that Maria didn't know about. It was just her over-active imagination throwing curves at her.

Even though she had so far seen Brains in holo-projection and in person, she still hadn't really met him. He had a stutter, but anyone who talked to him for even a minute would know he was also a genius. He had a robot named MAX that seemed to follow him around or run down to the kitchen to fetch a sandwich on his behalf when Brains was too busy being brilliant to fetch it himself.

Maria took a quick shower and flopped into bed. The soothing sound of recorded surf and the reassuring softness of Archie, the plushie squid, pulled her into sleep immediately. Her watch's vibration alarm woke her before dawn. She had forgotten to ask when everyone had breakfast around here, so she needed to be ready. She put on clean scrubs and apron, combed her hair into a fresh bun, and tip-toed into the hall.

"Sally?" she whispered at her boss's door. She hoped it wasn't loud enough to wake her, just enough to be heard if she was already awake.

"Good, you're up!" Sally replied in full volume. "Come on in."

"Did you try to call me already?" Maria decided then and there to always leave her door open in case Sally needed her in the night. She hurried to the bedside and offered her hand.

"No, but I was about to. My old-lady bladder isn't what it used to be." She used Maria's arm like a grab bar and pulled herself up to sitting. After that, Sally really only needed help for balance. Maria kept her steady on the short walk to her bathroom, then left her to do her business in peace.

She returned at the sound of the flush. "Back to bed then?"

"No, I'll go down to the kitchen with you. Not that you need my help. After last night's dinner, everyone will be keen on your encore. Me included."

Maria resisted the urge to roll her eyes. About the only thing she'd made that was decent was the garlic toast and because of that, there was no bread left to have toast with breakfast. Who ate eggs and bacon without toast? Maria planned to make some American-style biscuits to compensate, but that wasn't a very good substitute. Encore indeed. Still, she wouldn't dream of contradicting Sally or her family when they were all bending over backward to be so nice.

Other than the lack of toast, breakfast didn't turn out too badly. The biscuits were light and fluffy and there was plenty of butter, jam, and honey to make them delicious. Maria also remembered seeing potatoes during inventory, so she quickly shredded up some hash browns. After they were fried to a nice golden brown, she started cooking bacon.

Virgil was first to turn up. "Is that bacon?"

"Yes it is. Good morning. How do you like your eggs?" Maria asked.

"Uh, not burnt?"

Maria laughed. "Okay, scrambled or over-easy?"

"Whatever."

Since she often broke the yolk accidentally, scrambled eggs were less of a risk. "Scrambled it is then." She made him three eggs and gave him the latest-cooked bacon from off the grill. The rest of the food was already on the table for him to serve himself. Maria didn't hear from him again after he thanked her for the plate.

Scott came down the stairs next and Maria immediately tensed up, which had the result of dropping a raw egg on the floor.

Sally moved toward her. Maria assumed she was going to clean up after her and that made the situation even worse. "Me and my butterfingers! I got it," Maria said, squatting down fast to grab the broken egg.

Sally spoke while Maria picked up egg goop, "Scott, this is Maria Anderson, my new home health aide. Maria, Scott Tracy."

Maria stood from her squat and dipped her head at Scott, but now she had raw egg and shell fragments in both her hands. She could feel her face heat with the flush of embarrassment. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Tracy. How do you like your eggs?" She looked at her hands again. "Other eggs. Not this one."

"I'll just have a bagel," Scott said, turning away toward the table.

"We're out of bagels," Sally said in what Maria would have classified as an annoyed tone. Her hands were on her hips and her slanted brows looked rather...threatening. "Have a biscuit. They're homemade."

Maria hurried to throw the broken egg out and clean up the residue on the floor with a sponge. She washed her hands and then brought a plate full of fresh-cooked bacon to the table in case Scott wanted some with his biscuits, but she was far too rattled now to linger at the table.

Brains came in next and Sally introduced him. Maria had the presence of mind to leave the eggs alone until after she shook his hand. "Would you like some eggs, Brains?" Maria asked. "I'm cooking to order."

"Can you do poached?" he asked.

"Coming up. Two? Three?"

"Two is fine," he said, joining the others at the table.

Maria started a pan of water to boil.

There was a two-beep tone and John's holo-image popped up between the kitchen and dining room. "International Rescue, we have a situation."

Scott said, "What have you got,  _Thunderbird 5_?" His tone and manner was totally different than how he'd stated his preference for a bagel.  _Professional. Commanding_. In less than a minute, he declared " _Thunderbirds_  are go!" and the entire kitchen level emptied except for Sally and Maria.

"That happens a lot here," Sally said wistfully as she started picking up Scott's and Virgil's abandoned plates.

"Brains didn't actually leave though, right? He said he was going to his lab. MAX can take him a plate."

"Sure, if MAX happens to come down."

"Well, maybe we need a call button to MAX then." Maria said this more to herself than to Sally.

"Good idea. Be sure to mention it to Brains sometime."

 _Did Brains ever_ _ **have**_ _a spare minute?_  Maria tried to reason out who else might be eating. John had mentioned he alerted Gordon to join Virgil because they needed  _Thunderbird 4_ , although Maria couldn't begin to guess how John might have done that from a remote space station. "What about Kayo and Alan? Are they still here?"

As if on cue, Kayo appeared. "I'm here. What do you need?"

Sally spoke up. "We're just trying to decide if anyone else is going to eat or should we scrap breakfast completely at this point."

"I'm not very hungry, but that bacon smell made it all the way upstairs. Maybe I should see if Alan wants some."

"Would you, dear?" Sally said.

Kayo bounded out. Where did she get so much energy when she hardly ate?

Alan came down ten minutes later, but he looked like he'd been dragged from bed unwillingly. He was yawning and rubbing his eyes a lot and although Maria would never mention it, she was pretty sure he had slept in the clothes he was wearing. However, he was enthusiastic about bacon and eggs and hash browns. Kayo joined him at the table, but she only drank a glass of orange juice.

"That was so good, Maria," Alan said when he finished.

The compliment was so innocent and so unexpected, Maria was thrown for a loop. "Why, thank you, Alan. We're going on a supply run soon. What's your favourite food?"

"Seriously?" He glanced at his grandmother as if being consulted on food had never happened before.

Maria laughed. "If I can make it, of course! If I don't know how, I'll try to learn." Maria shuddered to think he might ask for something only Chef Charlotte could possibly accomplish, and then she, Maria, would look like an incompetent fool.

"Tacos."

Maria smiled widely. "My specialty."

"No way!"

"Yes way," Sally assured him, "and wait until you try her breakfast burritos."

Alan and Kayo washed their dishes as well as Virgil's and Scott's. "Do you want us to wash these platters too?" Alan asked.

They still had too much food on them to throw away, in Maria's opinion. "I've got those. Thanks for your help."

Alan and Kayo disappeared. Maria took all the extra food back to the kitchen. Sally picked up the platter of bacon and headed to the garbage receptacle.

"Wait!" Maria cried. She immediately regretted it. This was Sally's home. What right did she have to tell her employer how to handle leftovers? "Oh, sorry. I just thought..."

"What? You don't think I  _like_  wasting food, do you?"

"Does no one ever come back from a mission wanting to finish the food they had to abandon?"

Sally scoffed. "My cooking? Never."

"How about we  _try_  saving it? If it doesn't get eaten, we can always throw it away later."

Sally smiled like she thought it was a good idea. She brought the platter back to the counter.

Maria cut the bacon into small pieces and then she scrambled it with all the eggs they had left. She spooned the egg-bacon mixture onto all the biscuits and added sliced cheese, making little breakfast sandwiches, and then placed two sandwiches per ziplock bag into the refrigerator. She hated using the disposable plastic bags (where did they even  _find_  such 2020 relics?) but unless saving leftovers worked out for this family, there really was no reason to invest in reusable silicone. After the six biscuits were gone, she mixed the rest of the egg and bacon scramble with the leftover hash browns. Sally gave her a questioning look on this last move.

"That's a head start on the breakfast burritos you just raved about to Alan. All I need now is tortillas."

"Smart!" Sally declared.

After they cleaned up breakfast, Sally wanted to rest. Maria took her up to the lounge where she could keep tabs on Virgil, because she was hoping he'd be free soon to take them out shopping. Maria made sure Sally was comfortable, then she took a seat beside Kayo.

"Are you busy right now?" Maria asked softly.

The beautiful Head of Security gestured up to the four Tracy holo-images hovering in the air. "No, they don't need me on this one."

Maria pulled her tablet out of her apron pocket. "I just wanted to know if you can help me set up a writing app. At home I used WordCloud, but Sally said security was an issue here, so what do you recommend?"

Kayo gave her a scrutinising brow. "What are you writing?"

"Anything I can't remember. Which is kind of a lot. Alan just told me his favourite food is tacos, but if I don't write it down somewhere, tomorrow I'll wonder if it was Gordon that said it. I also have shopping lists and recipes on my local drive that I should back up." Kayo was still giving her that stare that made her wish she hadn't asked. This kind of suspicion was exactly what she was trying to  _avoid_. "I don't think I'd ever need to write down anything sensitive to security. Just, show me what to do so I don't flub anyone else up."

Sally added. "I think what Maria is trying to say is she wants to make sure she doesn't accidentally open some electronic pathway that The Hood could exploit to get into more important data on our network."

Maria nodded. It was a little embarrassing that the older woman knew more about technology than she did. "I'm kind of dumb about these things," Maria admitted.

"Which is why you asked," Kayo said kindly. "No problem." Her fingers swiped and danced over the tablet screen. She handed it back. "There. You can store anything you like on our private server space. If you want, set a password on the file. Otherwise anyone here could see it."

"I don't need to hide anything from  _you_ ," Maria said. "Just whatever bad guys keep harassing International Rescue."

"Well, thanks for not just posting Alan's favourite food on your Facebook."

"I haven't even  _looked_  at Facebook since high school. I don't do social media." Maria managed to say the word 'social' in a neutral tone without her usual sneer. It might give the impression that she didn't like any people, including her wonderful new boss and that boss's very gracious family. However, 'social' had negative connotations for Maria that had nothing to do with present company. Still, the pronouncement hung in the air and felt awkward.  _Change the subject_.

"How about  _your_  favourite food, Kayo?" Surely, even a svelte Venus had to eat  _something_ , sometime.

"Sushi," Kayo said.

And there it was, a food Maria had no idea how to make. Her only consolation was that Miss Culinary Master Charlotte probably didn't learn to make sushi in her fancy Paris cooking school either. "I don't know how to make that. Yet. Give me some time."

"Oh, don't worry about me. I get by just fine."

Of that, Maria had no doubt.


	8. Chapter 8

Much as Maria wanted to sit in the lounge and soak up information about how International Rescue worked and get some kind of feeling for the personalities of the Tracy men, she felt it would be shirking her duties. She leaned over to Sally and whispered, “Isn't there something I should be doing now?”

“Well, the cookies you made yesterday are gone. We could go make some more.”

Maria found it odd that making cookies again was a higher priority than cleaning or laundry, but Sally was the boss. Still, it wasn't necessary for _her_ to move again so soon. “We? _You_ really should rest.”

Sally stared at her for half a beat. It made Maria a little nervous. Had she overstepped her bounds? “You're right. Let me know if you need anything.”

Maria patted her knee and slipped out of the lounge silently. She whipped up another batch of chocolate chip cookies and a batch of peanut butter cookies. The last two cookie sheets were still baking when she heard Sally's voice carry down the stairs.

“Maria! Virgil's inbound now. We're doing that supply run before he gets called out again!”

Scott's voice came next. Maria wasn't sure whether he was there in person or it was over comms, but he was quite loud and sounded rather cranky. “ _She_ doesn't go down to the hangar without one of us with her at all times.”

“ _She_ has a _name_ , Scott.” Sally's voice was much quieter, and carried what Maria thought might be a note of reprimand. “And I wasn't planning to send her down there alone.”

Maria was glad she didn't have to face Scott right now. Staying out of the hangar didn't sound like a hard thing to do. She would do her level best to mind his rules. She looked around the kitchen at her cookie-making mess. Did she have time to clean any of it up? “How much time do I have, Mrs. Tracy?” she called up the stairs, remembering to be less familiar with her boss when Scott might overhear.

“Fifteen minutes, but would you be a dear and come help me with the stairs now?”

“Of course.” Maria practically threw a pair of batter-encrusted beaters into the sink as she dashed to the staircase. When they made it to the kitchen together, Maria tried to steer Sally to sit in a dining chair. “Sorry about the mess. I can get most of it clean before we go.”

“I'll help,” Sally said. Then she noticed the kitchen counters filled with cooling cookies everywhere. She gasped. “Oh my! You made peanut butter _and_ chocolate chip that fast?”

It was probably more likely Sally didn't realise just how long Maria had been down here. Maria chuckled. “Maybe if I can build up the reserves, I'll have time later for laundry or something.” The timer went off and Maria removed the last two cookie sheets from the oven. She washed the bowls, measuring cups, and utensils, while Sally transferred the cooled cookies to platters. Maria swept some spilled sugar from the floor and glanced at her watch. “Time?”

Just then, Virgil walked in, wearing his uniform. He had a green sash the same color as his _Thunderbird_ , and a big laser mounted on his shoulder. “You two ready to go?”

Maria nodded and reached behind her back to untie her apron strings.

“Hungry, Virgil?” Sally asked him.

He grinned. “You know me, Grandma.”

“Well, we saved some breakfast in the fridge,” Maria said. Then she remembered that leftovers weren't popular with Tracy men, so she added, “Or there's cookies.” She gestured to the two platters piled high.

Sally pulled one of the baggies of breakfast sandwiches from the refrigerator and handed it to Virgil, evidently guessing which of the options he'd prefer. He ran them through a short zap of microwave and took a bite. “Mmm.”

“Well, look at that. You _do_ eat leftovers,” Sally said bemusedly. Virgil hid a guilty cringe behind another big bite while Sally grinned and shook her head. “Come on, Maria. Let's get this show on the road.”

_Thunderbird 2_ was waiting in the hangar with a cargo module already secured. Sure, Maria had seen pictures before, but nothing could have prepared her for the size and sleek green beauty of the ship's lines. Take-off was a lot more intense than when she flew commercial or _FAB 1_ , but the flight was smooth otherwise.

While they were in the sky, John called with a mission for Virgil. Virgil turned to Sally. “We're almost there, Grandma. Do you want me to drop you off or come with me?”

Sally gave Maria a glance. Maria shrugged. She didn't want to inconvenience anyone, but surely Virgil didn't really want his grandmother and her nurse tagging along when he had something important to do. Sally turned back to her grandson. “You can drop us off. There's only two seats in the pod anyway. We'll get the shopping done and someone can pick us up later.”

“F.A.B.”

Maria had deduced this meant something along the lines of 'good' or 'yes' but why they didn't use something more conventional like 'roger', she couldn't guess. It was probably some super-elite astronaut lingo they picked up from their father.

They ended up buying everything on Maria's list and then some. Sally didn't bat an eye or question any ingredient Maria suggested. She even bought reusable silicone zippy envelopes and glass tubs for leftovers, so they wouldn't be putting plastic trash in the rubbish bin anymore. They had to wait a while after Sally finished check-out for Virgil to come back, but not so long that anything frozen had thawed.

After putting everything away back on Tracy Island, there was no time left to do laundry, but at least there was enough time and the ingredients to make a better dinner than that first night's spaghetti. Although Sally loitered in the kitchen, she mostly stayed out of the way and only minimally helped with the cooking. Maria didn't care if she helped or who got credit as long as the food was decent.

Dinner was tacos with pan-fried tortilla shells, homemade guacamole, and salsa. Some of the bacon grease Maria had saved from breakfast went into flavouring the refried beans. Spanish rice with sauteed onions completed the meal. If she hadn't already made two batches of cookies that morning, she would have made churros too, but it seemed like everyone enjoyed the food well enough, at least those who weren't on missions. Gordon said they were the best tacos he'd ever had in his life, which Maria assumed must be an exaggeration, considering how well-travelled all the Tracys were, but such a nice compliment touched her anyway and she thanked him profusely.

Brains actually showed up to eat, although a little late. He was really quiet though. He didn't mention whether he liked the food, but at least he ate it and didn't have any complaints. His mind seemed to be working on some mystery of the universe, no doubt more important than tacos.

After eating himself, Virgil gathered a plate of Mexican food, two of the breakfast biscuit sandwiches from the fridge, and some cookies, saying it was for a care package for John. It would travel up to _Thunderbird 5_ in a space elevator, along with some non-food items John needed. Virgil left the kitchen for the hangar.

When he returned, he leaned over Sally, who was still sitting at the table. His voice was low, but not a whisper, and without trying to eavesdrop, Maria heard him say, “Grandma, how come you didn't introduce Maria to John? I told him who made the food and he didn't know what I was talking about.”

“Oh, that's right. She's seen him, but he hasn't seen her yet.” Without warning, she hit the comms pad in the centre of the dinner table. “Tracy Island to _Thunderbird 5_. John, do you have a minute?”

Maria guessed what was coming and tried not to cringe. She had to be an absolute mess after shopping and cooking and starting on the kitchen cleanup. How much salsa had she spilled on her apron? Did her face look as greasy as it felt? Reflexively, she ran one hand over her head to smooth stray hairs and used the other hand to push her slipping glasses up her nose.

“What can I do for you, Grandma?” John said. He was hovering weightlessly as he talked.

“I want you to meet Maria.” Sally grabbed Maria by the elbow and pulled her in so her image would be picked up by the holo-projection camera. “John Tracy, this is Maria Anderson, my new home health aide. She made dinner tonight.”

Maria waved for half a second, then thought better of it. She had to remember that this was normal interaction for the Tracy family, not like some cheesy phone video someone was going to post on the Internet. She tried to look more dignified. “Pleased to meet you, John. Hope you like the tacos.”

“Nice to meet you as well, Maria. If they're half as good as Virgil says, I'm sure I will.”

Sally let go of her and Maria retracted immediately out of view. “Thanks, John,” Sally said as she ended the call.

Alan, Scott, and Kayo came home late after a particularly difficult mission. Most of the food had been put away and the dishes had been done. Alan was headed directly to bed until Kayo yelled up the stairs that Maria had made his favourite food. He rushed in, looking around the kitchen incredulously. “You made tacos for _me_?”

Maria grinned at him. “I made them for everyone, but we saved some for you, yes.”

He skipped the rice, beans, and cookies, but he must have eaten at least eight tacos. “Can you make these all the time?” Alan asked Maria, his crystal blue eyes so sincere it was painful. Kayo elbowed him in the ribs. “Ow. Hey, what was that for?”

Maria chuckled. “I'll make them once a week or so, but I'll always make some extra that you can reheat any time, like at lunch or when I make a dinner you don't like.”

This seemed to make him happy. Maria saved all the meat, lettuce, fried shells, and guacamole in silicone zippy envelopes along with half the shredded cheddar. The rice, salsa, and other half of the cheese went into the egg-bacon mixture she had kept from that morning. “Tomorrow is breakfast burritos,” she announced to no one in particular.

She thought she might have overheard Scott admit to Kayo that dinner had been good, but Maria was on the far side of the kitchen and he was whispering, so she couldn't be sure.

Maria escorted Sally up to her room and helped her with her shower and dressing for bed. Afterwards, she went back downstairs alone to do some dusting and light cleanup when she wouldn't be disrupting any mission communications because the lounge was finally empty.

After her own shower, she sat on her bed and made notes about the day on her tablet. She named the file “journal” and stored it on the server space Kayo had set aside for her. She also started a list of things to look up. Evidently, she was the only clueless moron about astrophysics and dozens of other advanced topics they regularly discussed around the house and at meals the way normal people discussed television shows or the weather. Maybe someday she wouldn't sound like a complete idiot if anyone ever tried to talk to her about anything beyond food.

Because she was leaving her door open now, she set the sound of waves to lower volume, then pulled Archie into a hug and fell asleep.

 


	9. Chapter 9

It took a while, but Maria eventually settled into something resembling a routine. Taking care of Sally wasn't especially difficult. The hardest part was getting the older woman to admit her energy levels weren't as ideal as she pretended and her strength was fading. She still insisted on going up and down multiple flights of stairs several times a day and folding all the laundry after Maria sorted, washed, and dried.

Maria somehow managed to get some herb and vegetable seeds planted, then she checked her garden for weeds and pests daily. A little over a week after that first night, she made a  _real_  spaghetti dinner, this time with fresh pasta, a slow-cooked homemade sauce with fresh tomatoes, basil, oregano, onions, mushrooms and garlic, loaded with Italian sausage and topped with freshly-grated parmesan cheese. Two loaves of homemade French bread gave the entire Tracy house that incredible yeast aroma that drew people to the kitchen to find out what was cooking.

Even though most of the Tracys said her cooking was good, the guys and Kayo had so many other responsibilities that regular eating was still a challenge. Maria tried to compensate by brainstorming menus that could tolerate delays, reheats, and variable serving times. She also started to design portable food that could be eaten in  _Thunderbirds_  with only one hand. She used her first paycheck to buy a dehydrator and jumped into producing fruit leathers, banana chips, and various kinds of dried meats. Virgil was a big fan of her jerky and chewy meat sticks, which she made with flavours like fajita, pepperoni, teriyaki, and buffalo barbecue.

She was still working on a decent substitute for Gordon's Celery Crunch Bars which were loaded with preservatives and whose wasteful packaging made her cringe, but so far nothing Maria tried turned out crunchy enough to offer as a substitute. She didn't know where to begin on his penchant for that nasty spray cheese either. Her first attempt at sushi looked truly horrible, but it was hard to judge otherwise, since Maria didn't like raw fish herself. She was too embarrassed by its hideous appearance to let Kayo know she'd tried to make it. She took a few pictures and made notes to try to do better the next time.

Once she found a routine and could be reasonably sure Sally would not suffer any ill consequences for an hour's worth of absence, she began taking time each day to swim. The lap pool worked for a couple of weeks, but the second time she got caught in  _Thunderbird 1_ 's flight path, she decided to relocate her workout to the ocean. The temporary darkness and claustrophobic quarters she could handle, but breathing all that thruster exhaust was too much. It took another couple weeks to build up her stamina, but eventually she could swim all the way around Tracy Island in under an hour.

Whenever she could listen in on International Rescue calls, she would soak up details like a sponge, but most often, she only got bits and pieces of conversations as she passed the lounge on her way from the laundry to the kitchen or when John needed someone who happened to be in the dining area while she was cooking. Slowly, she started to get a sense of how things worked and the relationships and personalities of individuals.

The most striking bit of reality was observing how incredibly positive the Tracys were with not only their 'customers', but each other. Not just having each other's backs for safety, but they regularly praised, complimented, and encouraged one another. It was so outside her past experience that she assumed at first it had to be an act for her benefit, but they did it on missions when they had no way to know she was watching. Eventually she came to the inescapable conclusion that these people really  _were_  as positive as they appeared.

Perhaps as a result of such a realisation, along with gaining a small measure of familiarity in her new surroundings, Maria cautiously ventured to add a headphone jack with a single earbud to the tablet in her apron pocket. She only used it when she was positive she was alone and it didn't interfere with any of her work activities. After all, she didn't want to assault anyone else with her off-key singalong and frankly ridiculous dance moves. She knew her playlist was quirky and downright weird with hundred-year-old Motown hits, golden-era showtunes, silly songs for preschoolers, and a dash of ancient Beatles and Beach Boys. But so long as no one else had to put up with it, what did it hurt? Her singing would never be as lovely as Virgil's piano playing, but she could enjoy music in private even though she sucked at it. She always kept one ear open so she could listen for other people and immediately halt any outward evidence of her indulgence.

* * *

Gordon Tracy looked in his mirror one day and decided it was time to stop messing around when it came to women. He and Lady Penelope had played the flirting game for years and even came close to kissing that one time, but all their dancing around the subject, Gordon finally realised, was never going to get him anywhere. It was time to grow up, time to get serious, time to step up to the plate and actually swing at the ball.

Even as he wanted to do better in the romance game, he had a bit of a problem in that he was stuck on an island in the middle of nowhere and rarely left that island except for work. The only brother who seemed to be doing better with the ladies was John, but he was even more isolated in space. Besides, what kind of crazy person would think zero-g handball dates were even fun, much less an acceptable form of socialising? He couldn't get John alone if he wanted to, so asking advice from a more-experienced brother wasn't going to happen. Not only would none of the others have any experience to draw on, they'd surely tease him endlessly for even broaching the subject.

But then Maria showed up. Finally, a game changer. She didn't know about his past to be able to let it cloud the future. She didn't laugh at him or tease like the others. He just had to figure out how to get her alone so they could talk without noseybody brothers or Kayo butting in.

He thought a while and decided  _Thunderbird 4_  would work. If Virgil could fly a family of four out to Antarctica for no other reason than to see penguins, surely he could take Maria on a little private cruise around Tracy Island. He would be even more mission-ready than Virgil had been in Antarctica because he'd still be close.

He got lucky one morning when Maria was cleaning up breakfast food and everyone else got called away. They were alone in the kitchen.

"Hey, Maria, would you like to take a little ride in  _Thunderbird 4_  with me?"  _Ugh, maybe I shouldn't have said 'ride' like we were going anywhere._  "I mean, just around the island."

"Wow, Gordon, I'd really like that, but I should ask your grandma first if it's okay."

Drat, he forgot  _she_  had responsibilities too. When did she seem least busy? "Maybe after dinner? If I don't get a mission, of course."

"Of course. I'd never interfere with a mission. I'll go ask Sally right now and let you know, okay?"

"Sweet."

* * *

Maria pinched her own cheek hard to make sure she was awake because what just happened felt more like a dream than reality. Gordon Tracy had asked her out. If this had been high school, she would suspect a game of Pulling the Pig. She had always been in that unfortunate group of girls who got asked out by the popular guys as a joke or a dare. She even had it on good authority that she'd been deemed the ugliest 'pig' in a large competition once. Ha, ha, let's watch some gullible girl get all her hopes up when she thinks she's got a chance to go to the dance and then yank the rug out from under her feet and watch how hilarious it is when her butt splats loudly on the ground. But this wasn't high school and she couldn't believe any of the Tracy men capable of such cruelty.

Gordon had noticed how much she loved the ocean and proposed that venue, even though it had to be the equivalent of being stuck at the office for him. She wished it could be more, but it was far too improbable to assume this was anything beyond one of the considerate Tracy men showing the new girl around. With that firmly in mind, she had to make sure that she wasn't risking her job and everything she'd worked so hard for, just for a quick undersea spin around the block.

She found Sally in the lounge, listening to a situation unfold and watching her heroic grandsons save the world. As usual. Maria stopped short, hoping to catch her breath after dashing to get here so fast. She didn't want to appear desperate.

Sally looked up. "Oh good. How did you know I needed help? I didn't even call you yet!"

Since getting out of the lounge was important to Maria (because of all the holo-projecting comms devices) she smiled and nodded. "Maybe I'm learning to read your mind?" She offered her hand and Sally used it to pull herself to standing. "Where to?"

"Bathroom," Sally said.

Maria took her arm and steadied her the short journey, then she waited outside the door. Sally didn't usually need help until it was time to stand again. The sound of the flush was Maria's signal to softly knock.

"Come on in, dear."

She pulled Sally up and then helped her to the sink so she could wash. "Is it all right if I close the door a second?" Maria asked.

"Of course. What's on your mind?"

One thing Maria liked about her boss: she was direct and to the point. Maria quietly shut the door and drew a deep breath. "I need to know how you'd feel about me dating one of your grandsons."

"Really?" She surely had to recognise the improbability. Maria didn't blame her. It  _was_  pretty preposterous.

"Gordon asked if I'd like to take a ride in  _Thunderbird 4_ with him after dinner tonight. I said I'd ask because you never mentioned how you felt about your nurse fraternising with your family members. I can totally understand if you're against the idea. I don't want to jeopardise my job and I would never hide something like this from you. So, just say the word and I'll nip it in the bud."

"Oh, don't nip anything on my account. Do you want to go with him?"

 _Are you kidding? I want to more than anything—well, anything except losing my job_. She nodded emphatically. "Yes."

"Then you should go! Take the night off and have fun! Gordon. Hmm. I wouldn't have guessed."

Maria didn't know how to take this. She would never have guessed either, but Sally didn't seem the type to rub salt in the wound of how plain and boring she was and therefore how surprising it was that any decent man would ever ask her out. Maybe she just meant it was so unbelievably thoughtful for Gordon to have suggested a submarine outing for the ocean-crazy girl.

Maria took Sally back to the lounge and then returned to the kitchen by herself. She consulted her tablet notes to find she had asked Gordon's favourite food already. It was hot dogs. So in his honour, she would make hot dogs tonight for dinner. She hadn't asked if he liked chilli on his dogs, but as long as it was served on the side, he could take it or leave it. She started the chilli immediately so it had time to simmer slowly over the day.

Gordon checked in just before lunch and she told him that Sally had approved their after-dinner rendezvous. He smiled at her warmly and looked really excited, like he really  _did_  like her, which gave Maria hope that maybe it wasn't just a show-around. Maybe this could be the start of something special.

Gordon got called out on a mission, so their conversation ended. Maria didn't let that bother her. There was always a chance he'd be called away during a date and there was nothing either of them could do about it. She'd be ready no matter what. With readiness in mind, she skipped her afternoon swim and kept her gardening to cursory watering and weeding. Earlier than usual, she got a head start on dinner. The chilli was looking good. She shredded a big block of cheddar and diced several onions. She boiled some potatoes for potato salad and some shell pasta for a bacon ranch salad with crab flakes. A pot of baked beans got set to slow simmer as well.

When all the side dishes were ready, she cleaned up the kitchen and then made a cheesecake for dessert. Surely everyone had to be getting tired of cookies by now. Although dinner didn't really have a set time in the Tracy house, she always tried to have it ready by six. At 5:30, she started grilling the footlong all-beef frankfurters and some plump bratwursts. Everyone happened to be home to eat except Virgil and Kayo. Maria made sure she set aside some food for them both when she cleaned up. She also made sure not to rush Sally into leaving the dinner table early just because she, Maria, wanted to be done with work in order to get ready for her date.

It was still daylight and too early for bed, so Sally didn't want to go up to her room just yet. Maria made sure her boss was comfortable in the lounge before she took off to her own room. She peeled off all her work clothes and took a quick shower. Because her hair wasn't going to be all tied up in her work-ready bun, she had to spend quite a bit more time and effort on it after washing. A little flaxseed gel helped get her frizz under control. She shook it out and then scrunched to try to create some body in her shoulder-length corkscrew curls.

What to wear... she'd been thinking about this for hours. To her way of thinking, Bermuda shorts or jeans both seemed to scream indifference. If Gordon was indifferent, nothing she wore would likely change that, but she wasn't going to feign indifference. There wasn't a whole lot she could do to improve her appearance, but she was going to do everything in her power. That meant she needed to wear a dress. The black business suit she'd worn to her mother's funeral was out of the question, so that left her turquoise Hawaiian-print graduation dress. Gordon wore Hawaiian print all the time, so she was reasonably sure he'd like it.

She always wore a puka shell necklace that her great grandfather had given her, but most of the time it got lost under the neckline of her scrubs. The dress's lower neckline would really show off her puka shells. In the absence of an actual flower lei, it was the perfect necklace to wear with a Hawaiian dress.

Maria glanced in the mirror. Not great, but not terrible either. There was one more thing she could do. She rummaged in her top drawer and pulled out the little contact lens case. She wasn't very good at putting these fussy little goop saucers on her eyeballs, but if she could get them in, they worked just as well as glasses and she had to admit they improved her appearance. It ended up only taking four tries to get the right one in and five for the left. She left her glasses on her bed and studied her reflection one last time. Not perfect, but it would have to do. She slipped into her Birkenstocks and took off down the stairs.


	10. Chapter 10

At the door leading to the hangar, Maria stopped short. She had forgotten to ask Gordon to meet her up here. Did he realise she wasn't allowed to go down by herself? Was he down there waiting and thinking she had stood him up? They hadn't set a specific time to meet, but she'd already spent quite a lot of time since dinner fussing with her hair and getting ready. She chewed on a fingernail nervously as she tried to come up with a solution to her dilemma.

She heard someone coming up the stairs on the other side of the door and stood aside so she wouldn't block it. With any luck it would be Gordon. She crossed her fingers and waited breathlessly.

It wasn't Gordon; it was Virgil coming back from his mission. He wore a clean plaid shirt, but his hair was mussed, his face was dirty, and he looked utterly exhausted. Still, he perked up on seeing her. "Wow, Maria, you look great."

How long had it been since anyone had complimented her appearance? The only other time she had worn this dress, the day she graduated from UCLA with honours, her mother had focused on her terrible taste in shoes, how criminally negligent it was to appear in public without makeup on, and various other nitpicks Maria could no longer recall, but which had stung a lot at the time and ruined the entire day.

She felt the blush rise in her cheek. "Thank you, Virgil. That's so nice of you to say. I saved you some dinner. We had chilli dogs, baked beans, and potato salad, but there's still some leftover buffalo chicken wings in the fridge if that strikes your fancy." She felt a twinge of guilt not to offer to run down to the kitchen and make him a plate, but she had legitimately asked for this time off and he was a grown adult who could microwave leftovers without her help.

"That sounds great." Oddly, he didn't leave, but stood there staring, like he felt he needed to guard the hanger from her spying eyes.

Kayo's sudden emergence through the door startled them both. She was wearing her street clothes, but she had a comms unit strapped to her wrist at all times. Just the break Maria needed.

"Kayo, would you do me a favour and call down to  _Thunderbird 4_ , please? I forgot to remind Gordon I'm not allowed go to the hangar alone, so I think he's waiting for me there."

Kayo looked back and forth between Maria and Virgil two or three times, her brows furrowed like she was confused by the request or something. This little hallway encounter was starting to feel awkward and weird. "I'll just take you down myself," Kayo said finally.

"Thanks," Maria said. Kayo turned around and went back through the door she had just come through. Maria followed closely. Virgil must have decided Kayo would provide enough security because he didn't follow.

Gordon waved from across the hangar. He was wearing his uniform, but Maria had expected that. If Virgil had to wear his when he took his grandma out for grocery shopping, Maria reasoned it must to be a rule of protocol. They could get called away on a mission at any moment, so they had to be prepared.

Kayo leaned toward Maria and whispered, "You okay with this clown?"

"I'm fine. Thanks for the escort. You never know when I might be tempted to come down here and wax a  _Thunderbird_  all by myself. Shame I'm not allowed."

Gordon had been approaching while the two women talked and evidently heard only the last bit. "You wanna wax  _Thunderbird 4_? I'll help."

Kayo rolled her eyes at Gordon while shaking her head. "Right, because women always wear nice dresses to do someone else's chores."

Gordon shot Kayo a glare and a slanted eyebrow. "Don't you have somewhere you need to be right now?"

Kayo glanced at Maria, who was utterly torn between not wanting to make Kayo feel unwelcome, and wanting to start the submarine adventure that wasn't going to start until Kayo left. All Maria could manage was a patient smile at Kayo.

"Yes, I do," Kayo said to Gordon, then she turned and walked out.

Gordon turned to Maria once Kayo was out of earshot. "What did you tell her?" he asked in a hushed tone.

"I just asked her to call you because I forgot to tell you I couldn't come down here by myself. Scott thinks I'm a security risk. She brought me down instead of making you come up to meet me."

"Oh, I get it. She's miffed I didn't say thanks. Sheesh." He swept his arm toward  _Thunderbird 4_ , its bright yellow hull bobbing on the surface of the island launch dock.

The sight cued up "Yellow Submarine" in her head. _Maria, you're such a Beatles dork._

"Ready to hop in?" he asked.

It was all she could do to contain her excitement. She hurried in the direction Gordon had indicated. He followed her and closed the aft hatch when they were both inside. She forced her eyes to focus on Gordon's face and not ogle at his incredibly sexy legs, accentuated so well by that form-fitting uniform. It was just as wrong for her to fixate on appearances as it was for others who did that to her, even when  _her_  motives were admiration and not disgust.

"You don't get seasick, do you?" he asked.

"I did fine on the ferry to Catalina Island for sixth grade science camp," she said, "but the only other submarine I've ever been on is the 'Finding Nemo' ride at Disneyland." She knew that wasn't a real submarine, but she hoped her lame attempt at a joke might lighten the mood. She was terrible at this smalltalk stuff.

"Okay. Good." He took the pilot's seat and Maria looked around to see where she was supposed to go.

"So I sit in the back then?"

"If standing doesn't bother you, you can come up front. I'm not going to push her up to speed to need seat belts or anything."

Maria stood behind his seat and looked out. Already she could see the colorful tropical fish beckoning them out of the Tracy Island cave and out to the coral reef beyond. Celery Crunch Bar wrappers blocked much of the clear bottom of the bow, but the fore view above the console was unobstructed.

Gordon pressed the IR logo on his sash. " _Thunderbird 4_ to _Thunderbird 5_."

John's holo-image popped up in front of him. " _Thunderbird 5_ reading you. What's up, Gordon?"

"I'm taking  _Thunderbird 4_  out for a maintenance shakedown around the island. Not going far."

John gave him a strange look that Maria couldn't decipher. "Copy that, _Thunderbird 4_." The holo-image vanished and they were alone again.

Gordon announced the steps in his launch sequence, which may have been one of those log things like Virgil did when he flew, presumably in case there was ever an accident and they had to figure out what went wrong from a black box recording. Did submarines have black boxes too? The other possibility was that Gordon was narrating for her benefit. Did he not realise that she was already impressed beyond measure with his skills and expertise?

 _Thunderbird 4_  glided effortlessly through the clear water and Gordon pointed out the sunken pieces of The Hood's old ship that had been collecting corals and turning into underwater habitat ever since it had been wrecked between Tracy Island and Mateo Island six years ago. She'd seen the bulky shapes before, but she'd never been able to make out any details because she didn't wear her glasses when she swam. Now she could see it all.

When they rounded the northwest tip of the island, Gordon killed the engines. Maria wondered what interesting creature they might be stopping for. Maybe an octopus would relax its chromatophores and be coaxed to come out of hiding once the engines quieted. She watched with excited anticipation.

"So..." Gordon started with a slight waver in his voice, "I asked you out here so we wouldn't be disturbed. Oh, and please don't tell my brothers. I really need your advice."

Maria couldn't imagine what possible advice he might need that she could give. Maybe he was finally ready to give up that icky canned cheese. "Advice?"

"There's this girl I've had my eye on for a while now. No, not a girl. A woman."

It was a little strange to have him talk about her in the third person like she wasn't there, but she sensed he was really nervous. She didn't want to do anything to make it worse, so she nodded encouragingly.

"We can't seem to get past joking around, but I really, really like her. How can I get her to see I have a romantic side too?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe take her on a romantic submarine cruise?"

He scoffed. "She has her own submarine, so that's no big deal to her."

 _Wait. What?_  The sinking feeling hit Maria like a tonne of bricks. He wasn't talking about her like she wasn't there. He was talking about someone else entirely. _Why did I ever think a Tracy would be interested in me?_  She couldn't speak right now; her voice would surely betray her shock and disappointment.

"It's Lady Penelope," Gordon admitted to the awkward silence.

Beyond being stunned that she'd been so monumentally stupid in thinking Gordon liked  _her_ , she was still surprised it was Lady Penelope. She had picked up vibes from Alan and Kayo and she'd heard rumors about John and an astronaut named Ridley; and Brains and a nuclear physicist named Moffy. How had she failed to gather any clue that Gordon liked Lady Penelope? They seemed to be the most abrasive co-workers in all of International Rescue.

"I'm probably not the best person to be giving advice, Gordon."  _Because I am an idiot of truly epic proportions_.

"Sure you are. For starters, you're not giving me a hard time like everyone else does."

She forced a fake laugh. "That's because I'm totally clueless. From what little I've seen on the comms, I thought you two only spoke to each other out of professional courtesy. I don't know either one of you well enough to truly grasp your senses of humour. Not to mention, I really don't understand British humour in the first place. But talking purely as an outsider, it seems to me that your jokes with her are sometimes, sort of... well, insulting. Maybe she sees it that way too?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

"Think about this: Parker is so sweet and devoted to her. You've got to do at least as well as her middle-aged driver. You could try saying something positive about her sometime. Maybe compliment her unique skills or say her name in a nicer way..."

"What's wrong with the way I say her name?"

"I mean her title. You understand that she didn't grant herself the ladyship, right? She doesn't sound like she enjoys all the events she has to attend. And I'm not saying you do it all the time, but I've heard a couple of times where you said..." Maria mimicked his flippant tone as best she could: " _Your Ladyship_  or  _milady_ " then she returned to her normal voice to continue, "when she could hear. How do you think that sounds to her? Would you want anyone saying 'Tracy' like that?"

He responded in a low voice, "No."

"Sorry I'm not much help."

"No, you are. I just—"

The familiar two-beep alert preceded John's holo-image popping up on the console. " _Thunderbird 4_ , we have a situation."

The mood changed swiftly and Gordon was all business. Maria was relieved she didn't have to think up any more advice.

"Go ahead and surface,  _Thunderbird 4_ ," Virgil interjected into the rundown of mission details and plans. "I'll come get you with the module."

"F.A.B." Gordon said.

Maria couldn't bear the thought of being in  _Thunderbird 4_  any longer, especially not with Gordon. She was furious with herself for making stupid assumptions. "Just let me out here," she said quietly.

"What? No, you don't have to do that! It's no trouble to take you with us."

"I should get back to your grandma. Besides, I missed my swim today."

"But what about sharks?"

Maria wasn't afraid of sharks as a general rule. Sharks were endangered and had much more to worry about from humans than humans did from sharks. She used to swim with leopard sharks at home all the time. "Do you see any on your scans?" She'd think twice if it was a white, bull, or tiger, but anything else wasn't going to deter her.

Gordon pointed out the fore window. "How about that one?" About twenty metres away, an unmistakable outline slipped silently through the water. A large and really beautiful specimen. She glanced back at Gordon to see him biting his lower lip.  _Does he really not know?_  She had always assumed that anyone who worked underwater as much as he did would have nearly unlimited knowledge of ocean life. But from what she was seeing now, he must have to spend so much time rescuing humans and dealing with sinking boats, subs, and undersea research stations that marine biology didn't quite register on the list of priorities.

"Gordon, that's a basking shark. It eats plankton. I'd go pet him if he'd let me." Actually, she probably wouldn't because it would be stressful to the poor shark and she was one of those weirdos that cared about their welfare. What she really wanted to do was get closer in the submarine and study him, but that was out of the question. Someone needed rescuing. Maria removed her watch and slipped out of her Birkenstocks. She looped the watchband around a sandal strap, then set the shoes on a shelf, out of the way. "Watch these for me, okay? I don't want to get the leather wet."

"You're really going to swim?"

"Don't worry, I swim around the island every day and we're not that far from shore."

He exhaled a defeated sigh and leaned back to trigger the keel hatch to open. She dove through the circular exit and kicked away. Belatedly she remembered that she still had those blasted contact lenses on, but it didn't matter. Her dress was a little heavier wet than she'd anticipated but it wasn't enough to slow her down. That summer of junior lifeguards she had learned to swim in jeans. This was easy by comparison.

Being barefoot, Maria didn't want to navigate rocks to get back to the house, so she swam around until she got to the little lagoon where she usually left her jandals and towel. Except they wouldn't be there this time. She hauled her soppy self out of the water and flopped onto the sand like a walrus. She lay there, trying to soak up what little was left of the setting sun.


	11. Chapter 11

Kayo sat in the lounge, nibbling on a piece of cheesecake as she monitored the latest situation details over comms. She grinned inwardly at the fact that Gordon's lame attempt at a date was currently in the process of getting subverted, but she felt bad for Maria. Their new cook obviously cared about Gordon or she wouldn't have gone to such lengths in dressing and fixing up her hair. Kayo really liked Alan a lot, but there was no way she'd put on a dress or style her hair differently to go out with him. If he ever so much as mumbled a disparaging word about her ponytail or her comfy cargo pants, she'd flip him on his back so hard he'd be on supplemental oxygen for a month.

However, it might be entertaining to be a fly on the wall when Maria and Gordon got picked up by  _Thunderbird 2_  because Virgil had been acting strange about this whole thing. Kayo wanted to ask him about the fact he was regularly hiding to spy on Maria's secret dance and singing sessions, but she couldn't ask without revealing how she knew it was happening. Grandma Tracy had told her to keep an electronic eye on Maria, but everyone else was showing up on the hidden surveillance footage too. It wasn't like anyone was doing anything  _wrong_ , it was just  _interesting_.

Then that weird little huddle in the hall twenty minutes ago where Virgil looked like he was trying to send some kind of secret code with his eyebrows. Was he being protective of the  _Thunderbirds_? Was he jealous? Was he just overworked and confused? His probing stare seemed to be begging Kayo to read his mind, but she couldn't figure out his message and he wouldn't just spit it out.

Now Virgil's holo-image hovered in the lounge, looking like he always did, calm, focused, and professional. The projector showed his hands holding  _Thunderbird 2_ 's yoke, steering toward wherever  _Thunderbird 4_  was so he could drop the module nearby for pickup. Something caught his eye in the flight path. His eyes widened and he did a double-take. When he spoke, his voice was slightly louder than normal and tinged with a note of dismay: " _Thunderbird 4_ , did I just see your passenger  _ **swimming**_  back to Tracy Island?"

Gordon's holo-image materialised from his portrait's projector. "Affirmative, _Thunderbird 2_. She insisted. Said she needed to get back to Grandma."

Grandma Tracy turned to Kayo and muttered, "Don't look at me. I told her to take the night off." She then spoke up into the comms. "No need for alarm,  _Thunderbird 2_. She's a good swimmer."

Virgil sighed and said, "F.A.B." but Kayo got the distinct feeling that he was faking appeasement because of the mission. Lives were in danger and he had a job to do. He was probably better than all of them in shutting out distractions and keeping his head in the game.

Kayo set her dessert plate down and stood. "I'll go check on her," she told Grandma Tracy. Kayo also knew Maria was a decent swimmer, but she was swimming in a dress, which affected the degree of difficulty somewhat, and it was also close to sunset. If she didn't make it home before dark, that could be a problem.

"Thanks, Kayo," Grandma Tracy called after her.

While Kayo was still by the pool, she saw Maria way down at the lagoon, already out of the water. Someone had left a towel on one of the chairs on the pool deck, so Kayo grabbed it on her way. Maria was still lying on the sand when Kayo arrived. She sat up when she realised she wasn't alone on the beach. Her sea-soaked dress clung to her body, wrinkled and bunched up where the fabric's flare had nowhere to go. Everything was coated in a layer of sand. Her hair was a tangled, stringy mess and she frankly looked like something a cat dragged in, not that Kayo would ever mention it. She held out the towel as a peace offering.

"Thanks," Maria said as she groped at the towel but missed. "Oops, everything's a blur. Lost my contacts in the ocean."

Kayo delivered the towel into her hand so she wouldn't have to grope. "You okay?"

Maria wiped her face on the towel. She looked kind of weary. "Yeah, I'm fine except for feeling like an idiot."

"Not one of your better dates?"

"Wasn't a date at all. Gordon never said 'date'. My fault for assuming. I should have known better." She swiped at her dress with the towel, but it was only pushing the sand around, not removing it. Apparently, she could figure that out even with her impaired vision. "I think I need the hose."

Kayo offered her hand. Maria took it and pulled herself up to standing. They walked up to the pool where Maria unrolled the garden hose.

"You want to take off your necklace first?" Kayo suggested. She wasn't a jewellery person herself, but she was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to get wet. Well, _wetter_ than it already was. Besides, the necklace was the only thing _not_ covered in sand.

Maria touched it as if to reassure herself it was intact. "No. These are puka shells. They come from a cone snail that's extinct. Totally waterproof. My great grandfather wore this surfing all the time. Supposedly, these were a major fad in 1970-something. Like those ribbon bows are now."

Kayo didn't keep up with fashion trends, but those dorky bows were ubiquitous as hair barrettes and brooches. It was impossible not to have noticed them.

Now clean of sand, but even wetter than before, Maria eyed the sandy towel with disdain. "I think I'll just drip for a while."

"I'll go get you some clothes," Kayo offered. They had hundreds of generic jumpsuits in every imaginable size for disaster victims who'd lost everything.

"Second drawer," Maria said.

"I wasn't proposing to go rummaging in your drawers. International Rescue has plenty of extras."

"It's okay, Kayo. Nothing to see but scrubs and aprons."

"Okay, sit tight."

* * *

Maria stood dripping by the pool deck until Kayo came back.

"I found these," she said, offering something a lot smaller than a set of scrubs would be.

Maria held out her hand to accept whatever it was. Her fingers identified the object immediately as her glasses. "Oh, thank you!" She had them back on in seconds. "Nice to be able to see again."

Kayo nodded and handed her the scrubs next. "I'm going back inside if you don't need anything else," she said.

Maria was actually relieved Kayo wasn't going to wait around for her. She'd already been inconvenienced enough. "Thanks again, Kayo." Maria took her scrubs into the little restroom by the pool so she could change. Being back in dry clothes felt better, but with her glasses on, she could now see how terrible her hair looked. Plucking out the seaweed and finger-combing was the best she could do for the moment, but she still looked hideous. She wanted to go straight to her room, but she had to pass the lounge level where it was likely Sally would be. It wouldn't be right not to check-in with her boss.

Sure enough, Sally was in the lounge, along with Brains, Kayo, and Alan, listening in on whatever Scott, Virgil, John, and Gordon were currently doing to save humanity. Brains was doing most of the talking at the moment.

Still barefoot, Maria padded silently behind the couches, keeping to the upper level, out of the way of comms projectors. She crouched beside Sally's head and whispered. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, Maria! I'm just fine. So what happened with your date?"

Maria cringed. Alan leaned in with keen interest written all over his face. Maria didn't want to say anything in front of him, but being silent would only make him more curious.

"Sorry, that was my mistake. It wasn't a date. I misunderstood."

Sally's thin white brows furrowed behind her purple glasses' frames. "And Gordon didn't mislead you?"

"No. He never said 'date' at all. Totally my fault."  _Can we please skip the joke about assuming, because the only one who's an ass is me._

"Why did he take you out in  _Thunderbird 4_  then?"

Gordon had specifically asked her not to tell his brothers about their conversation, but Maria didn't think he wanted Kayo or his grandmother to know either.  _What did he tell John?_ "He said he needed to do a maintenance shakedown. He showed me The Hood's wrecked ship and he pointed out the biggest, most beautiful basking shark I've ever seen."

"You actually  _like_  sharks?" Alan interjected. "That is  _so cool!_ "

"Yeah, I'm kind of crazy about sea creatures."  _Crazy in other ways too, but we won't talk about that._

"Wait a minute," Sally said, almost growling, "Gordon knew there were sharks in the water and he let you get out and swim?"

"Actually, he didn't want me to. I insisted. Basking sharks aren't dangerous. They're harmless filter feeders. I didn't get close to the big guy anyway."

"I think you're not telling us something," Sally said matter-of-factly, her arms crossed over her chest. It was kind of spooky how perceptive she was. Then again, Maria was not a good actress.

She drew a deep breath. "You're right, but saying anything more would betray a confidence."

"And you don't kiss and tell."

Maria couldn't prevent the scoff that escaped but she did refrain from voicing her acid little comeback:  _Apparently, I don't kiss **or** tell_.

Through the haze of background chatter, she overheard someone say, "See you back at the ranch." That meant the mission was over. She didn't want to be around the lounge when Gordon showed up, which sounded like it would be soon.

She leaned toward Sally and lowered her voice another notch. "I'm going to go put some shoes on and then I'll be down in the kitchen. Yell if you need anything."

"You have the night off, remember?"

"Perfect time to catch up on baking." Actually, cleaning would be more therapeutic, but the room that most needed cleaning was full of people right now. Baking would spend energy with the bonus of having something to clean afterwards.

Sally shook her head in that long-suffering way. She probably wasn't happy that the time off wasn't more appreciated. If Maria didn't have so much unsettled energy, she would go look up nano-construction or one of the fifty other subjects she'd noted that everyone else understood except her. However, her brain was too fried to try to concentrate on advanced physics and sitting still wasn't going to work for her nerves.

A quick trip upstairs and she had her trainers on, her hair back in its tight bun, and an apron added to her scrubs. She avoided the lounge on the way back and headed straight to the kitchen.

Chocolate chip cookies went into the mixer first, as they seemed to be a Tracy family favourite. She had them down to a science now and baking them didn't take long. Next, she made a batch of cupcakes just so she would have something to decorate with fussy frosting swirls. Her piped roses were always a disaster, but she wasn't bad with cornelli, ruffles, and borders. While the cupcakes cooled, she used her bare hands to mix some curing spices into ground turkey and then extruded it into strips on a dehydrator tray for turkey jerky.

Her hands were still covered in raw meat when Gordon walked in carrying her Birkenstocks. She'd have to see him eventually, so might as well get the awkwardness over with now.

"I'm sorry, Maria," he said sheepishly.

"For what?"  _I'm the idiot in this whole mess, not you_.

"You thought me taking you out alone in  _Thunderbird 4_  was a date, didn't you?"

She shrugged. "Yes, I did. But you didn't say 'date'. I assumed. Not your fault."

"See? That's what I told Virgil!"

 _Great, you told Virgil? Be sure and tell Scott and John so they can laugh at me too. As if I wasn't humiliated enough already_. She turned away from looking at him to stare down and pick at the little meat blobs clinging to her palms. Could this possibly get any worse?

"Still, he had a point that I should have noticed that you dressed up and stuff."

"You had your mind on someone else," she said quietly without looking up. _Someone who's always stylish and incredibly beautiful. Someone I could never compete with_.

"Yeah, I did. Thanks for understanding." He raised the hand carrying her sandals. "Where should I put these?"

"Over by the door is fine. Thanks for bringing them back."

"No problem."


	12. Chapter 12

Gordon set her Birkenstocks by the door and left the kitchen. Maria washed the meat off her hands and plugged in the dehydrator. She removed her watch from the sandal strap and put it on her wrist, then she split her Birkies up and placed a shoe in each apron pocket before heading up the stairs. Sally had said Maria was off duty but the older woman would still need to get up to her room and Maria had told her she was going to be cooking, so it wouldn't be right to just ignore her. She stopped in the lounge to check on her.

Brains was on his way out of the room. "G-Good night, Maria," he yawned and waved sleepily as they passed each other.

"Good night, Brains," Maria replied. He'd been so busy with the mission, she was reasonably sure he was one of the few people right now who was unaware of her recent venture into stupidity.

Only Virgil and Sally were still seated in the lounge. Of all her grandsons, it seemed Sally was closest to Virgil. He saw Maria and spoke first. "Did Gordon apologise?"  _Ah, so Gordon was coerced into that apology_. _Poor guy._

Maria nodded. "He did, but he really didn't do anything wrong. It wasn't a date and the shark was harmless."

Virgil's eyes bugged a little. "The  _shark_?"

It was really nice that all these people cared enough to be alarmed, but she certainly wasn't going to let anyone blame Gordon. She chose to swim away because she felt stupid. She had no one else to blame for losing her contacts or messing up her dress.

" _Basking_  shark," she said, emphasising the species name. "And he was beautiful. I'm really glad Gordon pointed him out. I might have missed him."

She saw Sally squeeze Virgil's hand and wondered if it meant anything. Maybe that was code for  _Maria may be dumb about a lot of things, but she actually knows something about sharks, so it's okay to stop grilling Gordon._  Virgil stared with his mouth open. Just as Maria was about to speak, he managed to blurt out, "Well, okay then."

Maria focused her attention back on her boss. "I'm going upstairs to drop off my shoes. You need anything? Ready to turn in?"

"I'll help Grandma up the stairs tonight," Virgil said.

"I'm fine, dear," Sally confirmed. "You going to bed soon?"

Maria shook her head. She didn't want to admit to needing to burn off her angry energy because everyone thought it was anger at Gordon and he'd already been given too much blame. "I've got turkey jerky in the dehydrator and some cupcakes to decorate. I'm thinking about starting some pulled pork. Sixteen hours of slow cooking and it should be nice and tender by dinner tomorrow." Her normal cleaning routine would come after all the cooking and hopefully spend any balance of her self-reproving energy. Once she got all that negativity out of her system, she could sleep.

Sally gave her a sceptical look. Her voice was nearly a mutter: "I bet it would come out just fine in eight hours." At least her boss stopped short of outright telling her to quit cooking and just go to bed like a reasonable person.

Maria smiled and inclined her head. "I'll keep that in mind. I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

She left Virgil and Sally to their conversation, ran upstairs, and stashed her Birkenstocks in her room. Back in the kitchen, Maria slathered the pork shoulder in a dry rub, placed it into the crock pot attachment of the automated kitchen module, and surrounded it with barbecue sauce. A pressurised lid and the lowest setting and tomorrow's dinner was practically done. The dirty dishes from the cookies and the cupcake batter were next. A sweep and a quick cleanup of the counters followed. Slowly, her self-loathing drained away. Okay, so she'd been stupid. It wasn't the first time and probably wouldn't be the last, but she didn't lose her job or a limb or anything important.  _Time to get over yourself, Maria._

The indistinct murmur of distant conversation in the lounge stopped and the lights upstairs went dark.  _Sally and Virgil must have gone to bed_. It  _was_  getting a little on the late side, and Maria might even be able to sleep now, but she didn't want to leave the cupcakes naked.

Making multiple pastry bags of coloured frosting always brightened her mood. She didn't think of herself as very artistic, but this was closer to doodling than real art. It wasn't like these cupcakes needed to sell in a bakery. They were snacks for hungry rescue workers who probably wouldn't even pay any attention to frosting doodles on top. Her only requirement was that they look good enough to eat. Beyond that, she did spend a lot of time on them solely for her own artistic outlet. The resulting designs were riotously colourful and intricate, but quite unconventional, even weird.

At some point in her sugary art endeavour, without thinking or using her earbud, she started to softly sing  _How do you Solve a Problem like Maria_  from "Sound of Music". It had long been a sort of a theme song of hers. As such, it was just a mindless little mood enhancer to accompany the frosting art, nothing more. She wasn't even aware she was singing when another voice joined her on the last line, this one a deep baritone, rich and harmonising:  _ **"How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?"**_  She stopped at "you", shocked and somewhat aghast she'd been heard, but also utterly transfixed by the voice of someone who could sing so well.

Virgil cleared the stairs and finished the song.

She gasped. "Wow, that was beautiful, Virgil. I'm so sorry. I thought you and Sally went to bed."  _Note to self: acoustics in the house carry much further than previously assumed_.  _Restrict singing to the garden._

"Grandma did. I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh?" She hoped it wasn't any more dredging up the thing with Gordon. She was finally getting over the whole episode. "Hungry? The turkey jerky is probably ready." She lifted the cover of the dehydrator to check on it. The dehydrator fan quickly spread the spicy aroma everywhere.

"Mmm. That smells good." Then he shook his head. "But maybe later."

"Uh, cupcake?" They weren't all frosted yet, but there were plenty to choose from.

He stood over the counter where the cupcakes were lined up in neat rows. "Wow. What are these for?"

"Eating?"

"No special occasion?"

She shrugged. "Doodle therapy. Swirls and bright colours cheer me up."

He turned from the cupcakes and gave her his full attention. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. How much did Gordon hurt your feelings? You can be honest. I know he spent the whole time prattling on about Lady Penelope. I can't believe you didn't tell anyone else how insensitive he was."

"He asked me not to."

"And you kept his confidence even though that was pretty tactless on his part. How long are you going to need to get over him?" Beyond the fact this was a pretty weird question, Virgil seemed sincere and genuinely interested. Five minutes ago, she would have said she was over it.  _He_  was the one bringing it up again.

"Actually, I've been on far worse dates. This non-date is probably in my top three  _best_  dates, ever. Gordon wasn't making a joke of me or rating my pig-score. He was confiding in me about something that he really cared about, which means he had to trust me and consider me a friend. I don't take that lightly, no matter how stupid  ** _I_**  was to think he liked me for more than just friendship. I only thought I had a chance for like, six hours." She glanced at her wristwatch; it had been almost three hours since the fully clothed swim. "I guess three hours of beating myself up for being an idiot is enough. I'm over it now."

Virgil's eyes widened.

Maria frowned. "What? How long do _you_  think I should beat myself up?"

He waved his hands in negation. "You shouldn't beat yourself up at all. I just... I thought you really liked him."

"I do. He's a sweetheart and Lady Penelope would be very lucky to have him, if she wanted, of course."

"So you're not still holding out hope, like waiting to see if the jester comes to his senses?"

She couldn't help laughing. "I can't compete with someone as beautiful and sophisticated as Lady Penelope, and I certainly don't have the emotional energy to carry a torch over a hopeless cause." She'd done that a couple times in the past and it never turned out well.

Virgil's face scrunched up like it did when he was doing something difficult on a mission, but he pushed through. "Okay, I hope you don't think this is too personal, but I have to know: what's with the big stuffed squid on your bed? You leave the door to your room open all the time and it's impossible to miss it. I thought it was all about Gordon."

"Archie?" She laughed again. "You think your brother is a giant squid?"

"Gordon is always talking about his 'squid sense' and we all call him 'Squidy'. What else should I think?"

"You should probably think I'm a nut case for sleeping with a plushie squid! The truth is, I used to teach preschool. I bought Archie to show three-year-olds a more realistic idea of what true squid are like because they think Squidward from SpongeBob Squarepants is real. My plushie is a one-tenth scale model of an  _architeuthis dux_ ; that's why I named him Archie. He has realistic tentacular clubs, a siphon, and a beak. I've had him much longer than I've known Gordon. Besides, I never heard of his squid sense and the only nickname I've ever heard anyone call him is 'Gordo'—by the way, you're all really lucky he doesn't speak Spanish. I don't leave my door open to try to send obscure symbolic messages to Gordon. I leave it open so I can hear your grandma if she calls me. I'm her nurse, remember?"

His facial expression relaxed. "That makes a lot more sense than what I thought. I'm sorry. I just..."

It finally dawned on her. "You thought Gordon broke my heart." More than that, it actually  _mattered_  to him. Her heart started to do that fluttery thing.  _Stop it, Maria. You've already been an idiot enough for one day._

He got a focused look on his face, like when he was working. "I was willing to step aside because Gordon's my brother and I thought you really liked him. I'm trying to make sure he's out of the picture because I want to ask you out myself."

"That's the most chivalrous thing I've ever heard. Now I wonder if I'm a bit cold and unfeeling for saying I'm over him already."

He chuckled. "Nope. Exactly what I wanted to hear. So will you go out with me, Maria?"

She stared, flummoxed for a few seconds.  _You better make sure, Maria. You know how stupid you are about these things_. "An  _actual_  date, because you're  _actually_  interested?"

He nodded and looked straight into her soul with those fathomless brown eyes of his. "Yes. Interested in  _you_ , not anyone else. And after the date, if we both agree, I want to call you my girlfriend. John can have his 'handball partner.'" Virgil rolled his eyes on those two words. "Six years and he still can't win more than twenty percent of the time. I don't want to play around at this. I want a real relationship—like, like... courting." He bit the bottom of his lip, as if getting all that out had been hard and now he was afraid of the consequences of being so bold.

She smiled. "Then the answer is yes. Absolutely."

It took him a second to process this, like he had fully expected her to hesitate or quibble about it. "Really?"

"Really."

"Uh, okay then, where do you want to go? There are a lot more options in  _Thunderbird 2_  than in  _Thunderbird 4_."

She opened her mouth to argue but decided better of it. The ocean covered 70% of the planet and land only 30%.  _Thunderbird 4_  had more than double the range if they were going to get technical. But he probably meant places where you could actually get  _out_  of the vehicle, like cities with restaurants and theatres and silly things like that. She shrugged. "I don't really care where we go. I'm more interested in getting to know  _you_ than any destination. I'd be happy with a picnic right here on Tracy Island."

His brows shot up and his jaw dropped. "I offer to take you anywhere in the world, but you want to stay home?"

"I love your island. I don't think you could find another place any more beautiful than right here. You choose where to go. I'll go anywhere with you." After it left her mouth, she thought the last sentence a bit too forward and cheesy, but she couldn't come up with a way to soften how it sounded without watering down the truth. She'd also need to make sure Sally was taken care of, but Virgil would know that and not need her to mention it.

"Would you wear that dress again?" He cringed and ducked like this was an unreasonable request that she would chide him for.

She remembered that he'd complimented her when he saw it. She gave him a smile to assure him it wasn't unreasonable, even as she might be forced to deny the request. "I think it may have been 'dry clean only' and I took it swimming. If it's not ruined, sure, I'll wear it again. I can't do the contacts though. They're at the bottom of the ocean somewhere." At least she hoped they were stuck in sand and not eaten by some poor animal who mistook them for jellyfish planulae. It pained her to think that she had contributed to the plastic pollution of the ocean. "I have to wear glasses or I can't see squat."

"So just wear your glasses then. The dress isn't even  _that_  important. You just looked so beautiful in it and Gordon didn't even notice or remember what colour it was. You deserved better than that."

_Beautiful?_  No one ever used that word to describe her. Her mother had always said she was 'plain' which was just a polite way of saying ugly. Yet Virgil didn't even make it sound like  _'beautiful in your own_ _ **special**_ _way'_  or  _'beautiful on the inside but we'll conveniently ignore your outward appearance'_  that she'd heard a scant few times. Maria had no words to describe the surge of emotions brought by that simple sentence.

He gazed out the glass wall overlooking the pool deck and the ocean beyond and then back at her. "Are you ready to turn in yet?"

She needed to finish the cupcakes at the very least, but sleep was going to be pretty hard now with Virgil on her mind. Maria shrugged. "I'm not sure I can sleep right now."

"Then will you go out with me right this very minute? I never know when I'll have a mission and you said you'd be just as happy here as anywhere I could fly us to. We're both available now and there's moonlight on the water. What are we waiting for?"

_Did you think I was bluffing?_  She reached back to untie her apron. "Sounds perfect. Let's go."


	13. Chapter 13

Virgil could not believe how awesome this night was turning out. Grandma was right: saying what he really thought might be cheesy and acting on his impulses might be risky, but he couldn't argue with the results. Now that Maria had said yes and the butterflies in his stomach could settle down a little, that turkey jerky of hers did smell incredible. He snagged a few pieces from the dehydrator for a portable snack. They were still warm and irresistible, so he snuck a bite while Maria was hanging up her apron and putting the frosting bags in an airtight container.  _Mmm_. He finished one and slipped the second into his shirt pocket.

Virgil held the door open for Maria and then stopped by the pool to think. He'd suggested this moonlight walk on a bit of a whim and now had no idea where to actually go or what to say. Maria sidled up to him and slipped her soft, warm hand into his. Goosebumps traveled his spine and it wasn't the least bit chilly outside. Everything was beginning to feel surreal, like maybe he didn't go back down to the kitchen to talk to Maria after all. Maybe he went to bed and was dreaming all this.

"So..." he started awkwardly and then promptly lost his train of thought.

She squeezed his hand gently. "So now you're bored and thinking about what exciting place we should have gone?"

"I'm not bored.  _Definitely_  not bored. Being here is not the problem. I'm the biggest homebody around. Just... I'm not too good with conversation."

"Sounds like you're doing just fine to me. Words aren't always required. Anytime you don't want to talk, you can park me in front of the ocean and I'm good for hours, just staring at water. Kind of lame, huh?"

"Not at all. Have you always lived by the ocean?"

She chuckled. "No, this is the first time. I lived in Los Angeles, but it was over an hour and two transfers by bus to get to the beach from the flat where I lived. It was closer to the beach from university, but then I never had time. However, beaches in California are so crowded that it's not worth the effort to get there. You say you're not good with conversation. Well, I'm not good with crowds." She shuddered so heavily that even the hand he was holding managed to shake.

The action must have triggered his tired brain to think she was cold because without even thinking, he released her hand in order to put his arm around her upper shoulders. When he realised what he'd done, he felt conflicted. He didn't approve of tricking women, but he kind of liked how close she was now. Honour won out. "Uh, you're not actually cold." He let go of the far shoulder and started to retract.

"I wasn't, but it's not too hot for you to leave your arm there. If you want."

He put his arm back, but now he felt awkward that it had happened. "I'm sorry; I haven't done this a lot and I'm kind of bungling around. Just tell me if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

"Virgil, I'd be willing to bet I've done this even less than you have. Relax. I don't bite."

"Okay, but it's important to me that I don't ruin our friendship. If I do anything that makes you quit and leave us, Grandma would never forgive me."

"Oh, of course she would! Nurses are dime a dozen. Sally could find another one in about three seconds. Well, considering all the background checks she needs, maybe three days. I think Lady Penelope said she got 47 qualified candidates when I applied. I'm easily replaceable."

 _Why do you discount yourself so much?_  "No. You're not. Trust me."

"Well, I pray every night that I don't do anything that'll get me fired. As far as anything you could do—just be honest. If you want, we can always go back to the way it was."

"I don't want that at all. I mean, I want more of  _this_." He waved his free hand around, only realising after he did it that he wasn't indicating anything that helped explain what he meant.

"I think the ocean and moonlight will be here no matter what we do."

"I mean, I want you to share it with me. I don't want to go backward. I want to go forward."

She exhaled with a dreamy kind of sigh. "Forward is nice. I like forward too." Maria nuzzled her head in under his chin.

He tried not to think about how well she  _fitted_ there, like the way precision gears meshed together. He needed to concentrate on what she was saying, not on how he was feeling. But then she just stopped talking. The moonlight on the wave crests was indeed quite mesmerising. He almost never took the time to come out here and appreciate little things like sunsets and moonlight. He heaved a contented sigh. "I figured it out."

"What?"

He sang the last line of the song she'd been singing in the kitchen, not with a full voice, but just enough to get the gist:  _"How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?"_

"Oh?" she asked idly. "How  _do_  you hold a moonbeam in your hand?"

He gently squeezed her shoulders. "Just like that."

"Aw, that is so sweet."

It was quiet after that, which usually didn't bother him, but being on a date was not just about himself. Maria rescued him from the awkward silence.

"When I was little, I always thought my mother made up that song about me. The only lyrics I could understand were 'problem like Maria' blah, blah, blah, 'problem like Maria' over and over, and that grumpy 'clown' accusation which my mother always said very loudly while pointing at me. She would even say I could 'outpester any pest' in general conversation, apart from the song. She told a perfect stranger in a park once that I was 'flighty as a feather'. It wasn't until I was fifteen and finally saw "The Sound of Music" that I found out not only did my mother not make up the song and it wasn't about me personally, but Rogers and Hammerstein didn't think their Maria was some annoying _flibbertigibbet_  at all, but the protagonist of the whole story. Since I heard it a lot when it was little, it pops in my head sometimes and I sing it for the irony." She tittered a nervous chuckle. "At least I  _hope_  it's ironic."

"Well, you're definitely not a problem or a pest. I doubt you ever were."

"I'm pretty sure I was, at least to my mother."

"Why would you think that?"

"My father and I were in a bus accident when I was seven. My dad didn't make it. I think my mother subconsciously blamed me for surviving when she would rather it could have been him. I didn't figure this out until I was much older though."

"I'm sorry about your father."

"Thanks. I didn't know him as well as you knew yours."

"Losing fathers is never good," Virgil said.

"Agreed. It's pretty obvious that you and your brothers had great role models and lots of encouragement. Everyone here is so positive. You probably can't imagine what it's like to be constantly reminded of your many faults and told repeatedly that nothing you did was ever good enough. I hope if I ever have kids, I'll do better than that."

 _Kids_. Virgil really wanted to pursue this subject, but it felt insensitive. That other part about how she'd been verbally and musically torn down by her only surviving parent sounded horrific, but it explained a lot about her personality. He had to address that first. "Maria, you're hard-working and kind and you're a really good cook. Not to mention, you're taking great care of my grandma. She's been so much better since you came. Everyone has faults, but yours must be pretty minor because I've never seen them. They don't matter to me or anyone else here."

Tears slipped out of the corner of her eyes and she pulled away from him to free her hand in order to remove her glasses to wipe the evidence away.

Impulse urged him to hug her, but he hesitated. It might seem manipulative to her, especially since his words had triggered the tears. He opened his arms in silent invitation.

Maria practically launched herself into his chest. She gave in to the tears for a minute while he just held her. She didn't heave any sobs or make crying sounds, but he could feel the tears soaking through not only his flannel, but the waffle-weave shirt underneath and all the way to his skin. The crying ran its course quickly and fizzled out.

She pulled herself together, sniffling. Her glasses went back on. Her hand glided over the wet spot on his shirt where she'd buried her face. "Oh Virgil, I'm sorry I got you all wet. This isn't exactly the impression I wanted to make on a first date."

He adopted a light tone. "I'm sorry you grew up that way and I'm sorry I made you cry, but considering how your non-date with Gordon went, I'm counting myself lucky to have at least got a hug on mine. Wet or dry."

"That's two of us that got soaked in salt water today," she said, still touching the wet spot. He tried not to think how much he wanted her hand to stay there.

He smiled. "Good thing we don't melt."

Maria commenced a perfect imitation of the wicked witch of the west when Dorothy threw the bucket of water on her, complete with hand wringing, a slow 'shrinking' accomplished by crouching, and an old-hag voice: "I'm melting, melting, oh what a world, what a world. Who would've thought a good little girl like you could destroy my beautiful wickedness."

He couldn't help but laugh at her spot-on impression. She joined him in laughing and it banished all traces of the previous sadness.

After that, everything felt easier. They walked along in the moonlight, holding hands. She removed the pressure of conversation by asking him easy questions about himself. He still had to talk, but at least he didn't have to come up with the topics. He would never be able to remember everything they talked about, but he wouldn't forget how warm and happy and relaxed he felt.

Unfortunately, the dream had to end. Maria glanced at her old-fashioned analog watch, the kind that only nurses and doctors wore anymore. "Virgil, I'm really sorry, but I have to get some sleep. Can we continue this another time?"

'Continue' implied not being friend-zoned. He grinned. "Of course."

"Does that mean I passed the girlfriend test?"

"It wasn't a test. It's a decision we make  _together_."

"Well, I'm not coordinated enough for handball, with or without gravity, so 'handball buddy' isn't going to work for me. I suppose you could call me your 'grabbable moonbeam'."

"I actually like that, but girlfriend is easier. So...forward?"

She nodded. "Forward."

They'd agreed to be in a relationship, but also to end their date and get some sleep. Why was she still standing there, looking so beautiful and... _expectant_? Did he dare? He drew a deep breath and threw caution to the wind. "Maria, I'd really like to kiss you. Would that be okay?"

She smiled demurely, nodded, and said "Yes," but it sounded like there was no air behind it, like she forgot to breathe.

He cradled the sides of her head carefully in both hands. Her eyelids dropped closed behind her rectangular lenses. Ever so gently, he pressed his lips to hers. They were soft, warm, and sweet. The moment froze in time while his heart beat so loudly in his ears, he was sure she could hear it. Heck, his brothers could probably hear it back in the house. Two storeys up. Through closed doors. Much as he wanted the moment to last forever, he didn't want to take advantage of her. As soon as he reckoned it went a hair beyond 'peck', he withdrew.

Maria gazed up at him, her face angelic in the moonlight. "You never have to do all that again."

Panic seized him for a split-second. He really didn't have much practice at romantic kissing. Could he have done something wrong? Maybe he was really too tired to be doing anything this important right now. His panic must have registered on his face because she felt the need to explain.

"I mean, you don't have to **_ask_** again because I'm giving you blanket permission. You can kiss me any time."

He heaved a sigh of relief. "F.A.B."

They went back inside, moving quietly so they wouldn't wake anyone. "I need to make a quick trip to the laundry," Maria whispered.

Although he could have let her go alone, he was curious. Why in the world did she need to visit the laundry room at this hour?

She bypassed the washer and dryer and started rummaging in the pile of ripped uniforms and old clothes. Maria persisted in her scavenging until she found one of Virgil's damaged utility sashes. It had already been cannibalised for parts a few times, by the looks of it. "You don't need this anymore, right?" she whispered.

Wasn't that obvious? It wasn't anywhere near functional anymore. He shook his head.

"Good." He didn't see where she found scissors, but she cut one of the small straps that used to secure to his leg. She left the rest of the old sash on the heap and pocketed the short piece of green vinyl-coated strap. "Okay. I'm done."

The mystery was killing him. "What are you going to do with that?" he whispered.

"Archie needs a green sash so  _anyone_ ," she winked at him three times with exaggerated eye and facial movements, "who might think my squid plushie was symbolic of  _someone,_  would realise he can't possibly be Gordon because we all know Gordon's sash is yellow. Of course, squids don't have actual shoulders, so it's going to look more like a belt between his mantle and fins, but it's really only for  _symbolic_  purposes."

No one else had probably even noticed her stuffed squid or come to the crazy conclusion he had. No one would probably notice this new 'belt' she was attaching to the stuffed squid either, but he would know. She'd already told him the squid didn't mean what he thought it did, but rather than stop there, she decided to modify it for his benefit. The plushie who slept by her side would now wear  _his_  colors so he wouldn't mistake her feelings. He stood gaping at her while processing all this.

Her voice lost its playful tone and was tinged with doubt when she spoke again: "Unless you don't think it's dignified? It's not supposed to be an insult to your uniform."

He held up his hand. "No. I like it. I was just thinking how brilliant you are and how lucky I am and I just got lost in the magnitude of it all."

He couldn't tell for sure in the darkness, but it looked like she blushed. The smile was unmistakable though. "You're so charming, Virgil. Thank you for our date. Maybe next time there'll be more time. Good night." She stood on her toes, planted a quick peck on his cheek, and disappeared down the hall.

Now it was his turn to blush. He remembered his voice and whispered back, "Good night, Maria."


	14. Chapter 14

Maria woke on time, but she felt the sleep deficit immediately. The events of the night before rushed back to her mind and it was hard to discount the very real probability it was all a dream. But when she made her bed, she found Archie wearing his little belt in  _Thunderbird 2_  green, physical evidence that refuted what her brain kept trying to insinuate. Her graduation dress was still soaking in her bathroom sink, mainly because she'd felt too tired last night to squeeze out the water and hang it up. She took a moment to do that first, both so she could let the dress dry all day and so she could use her sink again.

She dressed quickly and checked in on Sally. "Well?" the older woman asked before Maria could even say good morning.

Maria smiled, feigning innocence. "I'm very well, thank you. How are you this morning, Sally?" She offered her arm for Sally's use in getting up. The older woman took it, but all her attention was on their conversation and not the routine, which was automatic by now.

"Don't leave me in suspense. Virgil was practically beside himself, needing to talk to you. Please tell me he didn't chicken out."

Maria chuckled. "He didn't chicken out."

"And?" Blue eyes sparkled behind her glasses and she wore a grin that was impossibly cheerful for so early in the morning.

"And he took me on a lovely walk in the moonlight. I'm afraid I never got around to cleaning the lounge or finishing all the cupcakes I was frosting."

"Who cares! You had the night off, remember?"

"Yes, I did. Did I remember to properly thank you for that? I'm sure I appeared ungrateful while I was trying to expend some nervous energy after the Gordon thing."

"Oh, I didn't think you were ungrateful at all. You haven't had any time off in the last nine weeks and I never thought about it until yesterday. Just because everyone else around here works like draft horses doesn't mean you have to. Should we work up a schedule for your future days off?"

Maria didn't dare ignore this perfect opening. "Actually, since I'm currently courting with someone whose schedule is very erratic, I'd rather keep to the 'play-it-by-ear' method if that's all right with you."

"Courting?" There was no surprise in her inquiry, only smiles.

"Virgil's term. But I fully approved and endorsed it. I think it sounds better than dating anyway, since we both kind of like to stay close to home rather than go out."

"But it's kind of...  _serious_ , isn't it?" Sally sounded more curious than disapproving.

"I don't know how serious Virgil is yet. I guess we'll find out."

"How serious are  _you_?"

Maria chuckled. "I'm  _seriously_  interested in getting to know your grandson. I'm trying not to get my hopes up too much because I could  _seriously_  fall for him."

Sally lowered her voice. "I think he's already fallen for you."

Maria really,  _really_  wanted that to be true, but Sally was too optimistic to rely upon her opinions, well-meaning as they were. She didn't know about Maria's abysmal record with men. Furthermore, even if Maria bucked the trend and things went well for a while, no one could predict what would happen when Sally passed away and Maria would be out of a job and a home. Virgil might still come visit her wherever she ended up; after all, he did have  _Thunderbird 2_ , but it would probably be a lot harder to sustain a long-distance relationship, especially if her new boss wasn't as flexible and understanding as Sally was. Maria banished the negative thoughts from her mind. Hopefully, that would be many months away. Nothing was going to steal her joy today.

Maria helped Sally into a clean purple tracksuit and they made their way together down to the kitchen, where the elder proceeded to gawk all over the goofy cupcakes while Maria set about making pancake batter. The pulled pork smelled wonderful from its slow cooking all night. Sally opened the pressure lid and stirred, filling the kitchen with its aroma. Maria took a quick look at it.

"I wasn't going to add anything to it," Sally said defensively. "I know better than to mess with your cooking."

Maria just smiled at her. "Let's take the bones out and then put the lid back a little looser, let some steam escape over the day so the sauce thickens up a bit."

Sally nodded and did as Maria suggested. She brought a platter for the sausage that was cooking and had just left it on the counter by the stove when Virgil emerged from the staircase, whistling.

"Good morning, Grandma and Maria, my two favourite ladies in the world." He gave his grandmother a quick peck on the cheek and then gave Maria a very nice good morning kiss on the lips.

The kiss had barely started when a harsh new voice interrupted her thoughts. "Virgil, what are you  _doing_?"  _Scott._  Maria's heart caught in her throat.

Virgil finished his kiss and turned to his brother. "I was kissing my girlfriend, Scott."

"Girlfriend? You hardly know her!"

Sally rounded on Scott, her fists clenched and her face screwed up with determination, like she was about ready to kick ass and take names. Virgil grabbed her by the arm and held up his other hand in a halting gesture. "I got this, Grandma." He turned to Scott and spoke so calmly it was a bit scary. "Scott, you're the one who's always saying 'What would Dad do?' about every move we make. I don't have to guess at what he would do this time. What  _ **did**_ Dad do? He married Mom. He was younger than all of us except Alan when he got married and he was Gordon's age when you were born. Maybe we can't trust outsiders to join us as pilots and mechanics. Okay. I'll take your side on that. How did Dad make sure there were enough people he could trust to keep International Rescue running? He had  _ **us**_ , that's how. If Dad's the ultimate example, you and I are behind schedule, brother."

Scott stood there, looking to Maria like the proverbial deer in the headlights.

Virgil stared at him a second and then continued, "You're practically married to International Rescue and I respect that. Better you than me. No one is asking  _you_  to settle down. All I'm saying is that I  _do_  want to follow in Dad's footsteps. I don't know if Maria is  _the one_ , but how will I ever find  _the one_  if I can't have a girlfriend? She's lived here over nine weeks, and I almost lost my chance with her because I didn't act soon enough. Do you know how long Dad knew Mom before they dated exclusively?"

Scott didn't answer. Sally did: "A month, and they only talked on the phone during that time. Two-D video calls, no holo-projections back then."

"So I waited twice as long as Dad did and I probably had more actual in-person knowledge."

"I... uh..." Scott looked back and forth between Sally, Virgil, and Maria. His gaze lingered on Maria, confusion and desperation written all over his face. "Have you really been here that long?"

She nodded. "Nine weeks, two days, and..." she consulted her watch, "eighteen hours. Give or take."

Virgil put his arm around his brother's shoulder. "I'm not asking for your permission. You don't get a say in my personal life. But I'd really like to have your blessing."

"Blessing?" Scott looked panicked, like maybe Virgil had already gotten engaged and he'd missed his chance to be rid of Maria forever.

Sally interjected herself forcefully into the conversation: "Yes, blessing, Scott. That's where you stop treating Maria like a pariah. You've been eating her cooking for nine weeks. If she'd wanted to poison you, she could have done it ten times over by now. So stop acting like she's looking for an opportunity." She folded her arms over her chest and stared him down with narrowed eyes. "How about you start this whole morning over and show me that you can act like a gentleman."

Thoroughly browbeaten and defeated, Scott drew a deep breath, straightened his posture, and offered a rather meek, "Good morning?"

Before Virgil or Sally could pounce on him again, Maria stepped in and adopted her nicest bedside manner voice. "Good morning, Scott. I hope you slept well. Would you like some pancakes this morning? I'm making them fresh. There's also some breakfast burritos in the freezer if you'd rather microwave one of those." She nearly offered to take a taste first to prove they weren't poisoned, but she was still reeling from that stinging accusation too much to make light of it. She'd known Scott didn't like her and trusted her even less, but he really thought she had it in her to poison him? To actually cause him harm?  _Ouch_.

"I'm having one of those burritos," Virgil announced, effectively cutting the tension in the room. He headed toward the freezer.

If Scott stated his food preference, Maria didn't hear it. She had sausages in the skillet and pancakes on the griddle that were probably overdue for turning, so she directed her attention to not burning breakfast and getting food out to the table.

Gordon made his entrance in the kitchen next, followed by Kayo and Brains. A buzz of indeterminate background conversation ensued during which Maria thought she might have heard Virgil not-so-casually drop the news that they were now an item. Gordon seemed the most happy about this, probably because it meant he was off the hook for yesterday's non-date that everyone kept razzing him over.

Maria delivered a platterful of sausage and some warmed maple syrup to the table. Pancakes came off the griddle by the dozen and disappeared almost as fast. She was doing her best to keep up with the demand when  _Thunderbird 5_  called with a situation somewhere near the moon. John said he already woke Alan up. Maria now knew John could holo-project just about anywhere on Tracy Island, including bedrooms. Scott said he'd join Alan in  _Thunderbird 3_  and they'd both be going on the mission together. He took off for his gear-up entrance in the lounge.

Brains left his breakfast half-eaten, no doubt to study mission details to give Scott and Alan support. Kayo finished whatever hummingbird-sized portion of food she'd put on her plate and requested Gordon's help with something on  _Thunderbird Shadow_  that sounded suspiciously like a ruse designed to get him out of the kitchen. Whether Gordon knew it or not, Maria couldn't guess, but they both left, so that only Virgil and Sally remained in the dining room. Virgil carried a nearly-empty platter from the table to the kitchen, left it on the counter, and then laid a gentle hand on Maria's back.

"Are you okay? I played up the marriage and kids idea pretty heavy with Scott. I wasn't thinking how presumptuous that might sound when we've been together less than 24 hours."

Maria turned to face him. "I'm fine. I knew you were exaggerating for the sake of argument. I am worried about other things though."

"Should I leave?" Sally asked. She probably thought Maria wanted to talk to Virgil alone.

"Not at all," Maria said. She motioned for Sally to stay seated.

"Okay, so what  _are_  you worried about then?" Virgil asked.

"Two things: one, I don't want to be the cause of strife between you and your brother. You work together and you count on each other. Your relationship is too important."

Sally chuckled. "Oh, I think there'll be a lot less strife now that Virgil told him off. Don't you worry about that."

Maria studied Sally's face. She looked so certain. Then Maria turned to Virgil, who nodded his agreement. Still, it was so hard to believe. It didn't feel like it was over to her. "Are you sure? You noticed he didn't give you the blessing you asked for, right?"

"Scott will come around," Virgil reassured her. "He's just stubborn. You said two things, so what else is bothering you?"

"Why does Scott think I would poison him? Is it because of my degree in biochemistry?"

Virgil's eyebrows shot up. "Wait. You have a degree in biochemistry? I thought you were a nurse and before that, a preschool teacher."

"It's just a bachelor's. I don't have any real experience in biochem. Textbooks and university labs. It was just supposed to look good on a med school application."  _Like virtually everything I did back then._ "But even if I had a PhD, why would I want to hurt Scott?"

Virgil looked like he was going to say something, but Sally spoke up first. "I don't think Scott even knows about your degree, Maria. I haven't mentioned it. I brought up poisoning because that's The Alchemist's 'M.O.' Twelve people have died holding black calling cards with that stupid hexagon logo of his, so Scott sees poison conspiracies around every corner."

"Hexagons are big in organic chemistry," Maria remarked idly, no doubt stating what they already knew. "But I thought Scott was worried I was a spy for The Hood?"

Virgil nodded. "They're connected. If you were working for The Alchemist, you'd be working for The Hood as well. But you're not working for either of them, so it's a moot point."

Maria sighed. "I just wish I could convince Scott of that."

Virgil pulled her in for a hug and she melted against him. "Like I said, he'll come around eventually. In the meantime, you just keep killing him with kindness. What you did was awesome, by the way."

She pulled her head back a little to look him in the face again. "What?"

"I asked him for his blessing and he wouldn't give it. Grandma told him to get over himself and be nicer to you. The best he could come up with was a weak 'good morning' that sounded more like a question than a greeting. I wanted to rail at him some more, but you—oh man, you just ignored all his slights and poured on the charm instead. That was way better than anything I could have said."

"I hardly think I could win him over by being mean to him."

"That was more than just the absence of mean. You were way nicer to him than he deserved."

"Virgil's right," Sally said. "There's no defence against kindness. He can't hold out against that forever."

The two-beep alert tone sounded, which meant John's holo-image would be popping in any second. Maria let go of Virgil so he could get to work. She had work of her own to do, starting with kitchen clean-up. Virgil was indeed called out and he ran toward the staircase with a wave. Sally finished clearing the dining table before taking a breather on a dining chair.

"You let me know when you're ready to take the stairs," Maria said. Sally normally spent most of the day in the lounge, watching her boys do their hero thing and being generally available in case John had to leave  _Thunderbird 5_  and needed a dispatcher backup.

"Oh I will," Sally said. "But while I'm just sitting here, why don't you tell me what you  _really_  thought about Virgil's little wife-and-kids speech."

 _Grandmothers._ Maria gave her the side eye. "I would never lie to Virgil."

"No, I know you wouldn't, but I think you'd abbreviate for time's sake because he's always running off to save the world and you have to talk fast to get a word in edgewise. He's gone, so spill the rest!"

"I told you earlier that I could seriously fall for him. Saying he wants to get married and have enough children to staff an entire organisation only makes him more attractive."

"You probably should have mentioned that when Virgil was here, rather than say you were merely 'fine'."

"You heard him. He doesn't know if I'm  _the one._  How could anyone know in one day? Let's see how he feels in another month or two."  _If he doesn't get bored with me sooner_.

Sally softened her tone and talked a little slower than usual, "Telling him you also want marriage and kids is how he would figure out you  _are_  the one, Maria."

"Maybe you're right. I'm not good with that abbreviation thing."

Sally reverted to her loud and perky self with a smile. "We'll work on that. I think I'm ready for the stairs now."

After Sally was settled, Maria went back to work. She finished the breakfast dishes, started some laundry, scrubbed a toilet and bathroom sink on the lounge level, finished frosting cupcakes, and got started on side dishes to go with the pulled pork. She checked on Sally, who was ready for her bathroom trip. Gordon and Kayo had joined the lounge to watch the moon drama currently unfolding. Whatever Virgil was doing, it evidently didn't require comms at the moment. His holo-projection was absent.

Maria took a little extra time in the garden, since she had been so brief the day before. The tomato plants had flowered, which meant tomatoes couldn't be too far behind. Considering she had the time today and was thinking about it, she staked the plants in anticipation of the fruits to come. Cucumbers were looking good, but needed weeding. She pulled a radish to find it actually ready. When all of them were pulled, she wondered if perhaps she had overdone it with seeding. She'd planted them later than most of the other seeds, but they grew really fast. She'd planted a lot because she assumed low germination, birds eating seeds, and the high probability she would do something wrong, but now she had a truly enormous pile of radishes. She formed a hammock with her apron to carry them all up to the house.

Maria managed to empty her apron into a giant colander and rinse the dirt off, but she had no idea what to do with that many radishes. After brushing off her apron, washing her hands, and digging dirt from under her fingernails, she sliced a handful of radishes to add to the green salad she was planning for dinner, but she left the rest of them in the colander, leaves and all. She hoped people would grab them to snack on like they did cookies. Maybe fresh, crunchy radishes would wean Gordon off those preservative-laden Celery Crunch Bars for a day or two. With promoting snacking on her mind, she dried the outside of the colander off and carried it upstairs to the lounge.

She heard Scott announce "mission complete" on her way up, but his and Alan's holo-images were gone by the time she got to the room.

"Radishes, anyone?" she said as she set the colander down on one of the end tables between couches.

Sally looked at the bowl. "Are those...?"

"From the garden, yes," Maria said. "Just pulled them up."

"You  _grew_  these?" Gordon asked, as if the process was some kind of secret wizardry.

"Well, Gordon, I put the seeds in the ground and I watered them. But you know the old poem that says 'only God can make a tree'? That goes for radishes too."

Kayo picked one up and chomped on it, making a satisfying crunch sound. Brains also grabbed two or three on his way out of the room, no doubt headed for his lab. Grinning widely, he muttered something about fresh produce and childhood. Gordon rose from his seat and took one, but he wore a sceptical look as he walked off, staring at it as if it might talk to him.

"Did Scott tell you how much he loves radishes?" Sally asked quietly when Gordon was gone.

"No. I've been afraid to ask him his favourite food. Just as well, since he thinks I'm trying to poison him."

"Maybe not his favourite, but he does love them. If he doesn't eat some of these, I'm having that boy's head examined. These are beautiful! You have such a green thumb!"

Maria chuckled. "I hope all the things I planted do this well."

After another round of laundry, it was time for lunch. Alan popped into the kitchen and reheated some tacos saved from last week. Gordon ate a sandwich and a cupcake and spent his time catching Alan up on all the gossip he missed that morning. Alan listened with a "yeah, sure" mentality like he thought Gordon was making it all up. It was only when Kayo said, "It's true," did Alan's eyes get wide.

"Maria and  _Virgil?_ "

"What about Maria and Virgil?" Virgil's voice arrived before he did.

"You're really dating?" Alan called to the void his brother's voice had come from.

Maria cleared her throat, revealing she had been standing quite near for the whole conversation. She added, "More like courting."

Alan whirled around, looking slightly embarrassed for not noticing Maria when they were talking about her, but still curious as ever. "What's the difference?"

Virgil finally arrived in the room. Maria gave him a questioning glance to see if he wanted to field Alan's question. He nodded to encourage her to go ahead.

Maria inhaled deeply and ploughed on. "It means that walks around the island in the moonlight count just as much as getting dressed up and leaving. And it means we're calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend...exclusively." Was exclusive understood in girlfriend? She didn't know for sure, but being redundant seemed better than being vague.

"Good answer," Virgil said and then he kissed her.

Maria heard "whoa" and "woohoo" and "all right!" from the gathered, all at the same time. MAX made some cute little whistle sounds. Maria smiled when Virgil finished. She also took a second to catalogue who was there: Gordon, Alan, Kayo, Brains, and Sally. No Scott.

"Hungry?" she asked Virgil.

"You know it. Got any more of that turkey jerky?"

"Of course." She left him at the table to retrieve the jerky.

He sniffed the air. "Mmm. What's cooking?"

"Pulled pork. Fully cooked now if you want some, but the sauce will be thicker at dinnertime."

"We also have the first harvest from our garden," Sally said brightly, pointing to the huge colander, no longer heaping, but still quite full. "Radishes."

Virgil blinked. "We have a garden?"

Alan patted Virgil on the shoulder condescendingly and quipped, "Looks like someone wasn't paying attention to the scenery very well in the moonlight, bro."

Everyone laughed.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Official notice of rating change. No longer General. Teen rating is for violence.

 

Gordon and Virgil got called out before they finished eating, but as Gordon was eating his third cupcake, Maria didn't feel sorry for him. Virgil took a handful of jerky and homemade pepperoni sticks as he ran out, so Maria felt he was covered too. Everyone had left the lower level except Maria and Sally when Scott wandered in, grumbling about the GDF being unreasonable over something or other. He grabbed a cookie and started to munch and then he saw the colander full of fresh radishes. His eyes lit up and he put down his cookie. "Grandma, who went on a supply run? These weren't here yesterday."

Sally sent a covert wink to Maria, and then smiled smugly at Scott. "No one has been on a supply run in over a week, Scott. Maria grew them in our garden."

"Just pulled out of the ground two hours ago," Maria added.

He looked deflated to hear that Maria had had anything to do with his precious radishes, but he grabbed one by the leaves and took a bite anyway. "Mm. Not bad." Which probably meant he found them utterly delicious and couldn't find a way to pretend not to like them. He pulled half a dozen out of the colander and onto his plate.

Maria decided to see if she could get some kind of positive conversation from him. "We'll have tomatoes and cucumbers in a couple of weeks, hopefully. Anything else you'd like me to try to grow for you?"

Scott crunched several times and appeared not to swallow before talking around the food, "More of these would be good."

She smiled. "I'll look and see if I have any more seeds."

"If not, we'll get more," Sally promised.

Maria turned to cleaning up the kitchen while Scott browsed leftovers in the refrigerator, then zapped something to eat with his produce. John interrupted his lunch with a situation, but when Scott was gone, so were more than half of the radishes from the colander.

"You ready for the stairs?" Maria asked her boss. With most of the boys out on missions, it was a given she'd be heading to the lounge.

"Yes, but you be sure and bring that laundry for me to fold," Sally said.

"I will."

"Are you going swimming today?"

"After a little more gardening."

"Virgil was right, you know. Scott will come around eventually. Don't neglect your personal time trying to win him over." It really was uncanny how perceptive Sally was.

Maria shook her head. "The most I could have is half a package of seeds. It shouldn't take long to plant and water them. Dinner is finished, so I have plenty of time for my swim."

Maria made sure Sally was comfortable and brought her a basket of clean clothes, as requested. She would be happy to fold clothes herself, but if it made Sally feel more useful to be able to do it, who was she to deny her that? She could do it seated and it didn't involve much energy.

Maria found the rest of the radish seeds and planted them in the spot where she had pulled the others, reasoning that it must be a good spot to grow them if it worked once before. She worked some organic fertiliser into the soil and watered everything down well.

Back in the house, she washed her hands and changed into her diveskin suit. It wasn't neoprene like a wetsuit, but blue, teal, and aqua printed lycra, with considerably more coverage than the average bathing suit. Maria unfortunately inherited more of her father's anglo skin and less of her mother's Mexican melanin. Both sunburning and skin cancer were concerns, but she also disliked her body enough to feel it should be hidden as much as possible. Her suit stopped just below the knees and elbows, with a fairly high neck, but no collar. She pulled her puka shell necklace to the outside of the suit so it wouldn't leave weird impressions on her neck.

Maria tucked her hair into a yellow silicone swim cap. It didn't keep her hair dry, but she appreciated the way it kept it out of her eyes and gave her a slight advantage against the drag. It had been a habit ever since a swim coach had been so adamant about wearing them that she didn't even think twice now, even though competition was no longer at stake. She slipped into her rubber jandals, grabbed a towel and her swim goggles, and headed down to the lagoon. On a big volcanic rock, she left her towel, jandals, wristwatch, and eyeglasses. The latter she traded for the swim goggles, whose only purpose was to keep stinging saltwater out of her eyes. Since the plastic lenses on the goggles didn't match her prescription, they didn't help her see, except to make it possible to open her eyes and make out the blurry outlines that prevented her from colliding with the rocky shoreline.

Her first thought on entering the water was how much easier it was to swim in a diveskin and cap versus a dress and unbound hair. Her second thought was now that she knew at least one basking shark had turned up in these waters, maybe she should save up for a full-face mask so she could wear her glasses under it like Brains wore his glasses under his rescue helmet. Then she could see all the animals and corals and even the sunken wreckage on her swims, without needing  _Thunderbird 4_.

Her next thoughts were of Virgil and his sweet kisses and his gentle manner and wondering when they might get some time together again. Out alone in the ocean, she indulged in a fantasy of getting his shirt off and having him lie down so she could give him a massage. She had no masseuse training, but she knew anatomy. But most of all, she just really, really wanted to get her hands on his trapezius and those magnificent deltoids of his. She knew she didn't have the guts to ask for this privilege. Touching and massaging was a little too intimate, but she could imagine what it would be like and hope for a day she wouldn't be too shy to bring it up.

Lost in the rhythm of her crawl strokes and the enthralling fantasy playing in her mind, and not able to see much without her glasses, she never perceived the tiny black submersible lying below the surface just a few dozen metres away. It made no sound, staying hidden from any aircraft by remaining submerged and motionless.

Without warning, rough hands grabbed her by the waist and pulled her straight down. It seemed at first to be just two hands, but the next second it seemed like four or maybe even six. She had no time to make sense of what was happening. Her eyes gave her only the colour black against the blue of the water and lots of frantic blurred motion before her goggles got knocked off in the scuffle. She thrashed around, trying to kick and push her assailants off. Something caught on her necklace and turned it into a garrotte against her throat until she felt it snap. Struggling for breath and freedom, she couldn't even worry about the loss of the family heirloom. The attacking force was too strong and she couldn't overcome it. The pressure against her eardrums told her she was getting further from the surface, not closer. Her air was running out and drowning was imminent.

It was at this point that she felt a rebreather mask thrust over her nose and mouth. She could not avoid the overwhelming urge to inhale any longer anyway, so she gulped at the proffered lifeline.

The gas that passed her olfactory senses on its mad rush to her oxygen-starved lungs had several peculiar odors mingling in it, one of which she could identify as suspiciously ether-like. The other odors were unfamiliar, but clearly she was not breathing just air. She tried to push the mask away, but found her muscles no longer responding to her brain's commands. Panic lasted only a split-second before unconsciousness swallowed her whole. Her body went limp and the struggle ended.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that this is no longer kid-friendly. Last warning. It's going to get much darker before the light.

 

* * *

Maria awoke to find herself tied to a metal armchair in a dark room. She couldn't tell if she'd been unconscious for minutes, hours, or days. The dryness of her mouth tended to argue for it being longer than mere minutes, but with breathing unknown gases, it was difficult to deduce much more. She squinted, trying to make out details in her surroundings, but without her glasses and very little light, it was futile.

A cooly unctuous voice echoed off metallic walls. "Ah, awake now, are we? Excellent." He had a snobby manner with a sinister edge.

"Who are you?"

Her question was ignored. "Welcome, Miss Anderson. I see the Tracys have finally replaced my brother to cook and clean for them. Took them long enough. If you were the best they could find, I can see why they didn't bother sooner. No matter. You were last on the list of those I would have liked to employ for our little experiment, but even  _you_  may be of some use to us." His voice changed direction, like he was talking to someone else or into a radio. He was less polite and more demanding in tone this time. "Get what information you can out of her, then use her to get our agents in place for phase two."

A screechy voice cackled its delight, sounding to Maria like every cliché Bond villain wrapped into one. It asked, "How long do I get to play with her?"

The unctuous one answered, "I'd wager International Rescue will find her in under twelve hours, so keep your  _playing_  brief."

"Maiming? Torture?"

"I don't care as long as you keep her alive for phase two. Go ahead and have your fun. She's not good for anything else." Footsteps against a metallic floor sounded, and then a door—no, a hatch—clanged shut.

_So I'm in a submarine, or a train compartment, or subterranean lair of some sort with a crazy villain who thinks maiming and torture is playing. Peachy._

Insane Screechy Guy spoke again. "I am The Alchemist."

Maria tried to suppress her shock, but failed.

"I can see you've heard of me. I'm flattered."

"You shouldn't be. I haven't heard anything good."

"But I find 'nothing good' to be flattering. So let's get down to business." He was suddenly in her face, his breath reeking of fish and whisky. She could make out a few more fuzzy details at this distance: brown hair lighter than Scott's but darker than Gordon's, and glasses shaped like Brains', but with thicker black rims. Damn her stupid astigmatism, she still couldn't get any kind of lock on identifying details.

"The game is simple. I ask a question. You answer it. If you tell the truth, you get rewarded. If you lie, you get punished. Understand?"

How would this guy even know if she were lying?  _Test 1: play dumb_. "No."

She didn't perceive anything but a blur when his hand (or was it a baseball bat?) connected with her left cheek. The loud impact and explosion of pain sent her upper torso reeling against the chair. Instinctively, her brain told her hands to cover her face, but the restraints at her wrists held tight, no matter how much she jerked and twisted against them. Throbbing in her face commenced almost immediately.

"Unacceptable answer," The Alchemist said calmly. "Let's try again. What's your name?"

Was there any advantage to withholding her name? The one who left had addressed her as Miss Anderson, so it wasn't like they didn't already know who she was. Holding back tears and doing her best not to let her voice waver, she spat out, "Maria."

His screechy voice now dripping with condescension, he replied, "Very good, Maria. See how easy this is? Here." He set what felt like a drinking straw against her lips.

She ignored it. Didn't Sally say he was obsessed with poison? She jerked her face away from the straw. If she could figure out how to make the liquid spill all over him, she'd do that too, but her limbs were all bound tight and she couldn't reach it.

"It's just water. You're dehydrated from the synthodietherene."

If memory served, that was a sedative related to ether. It must have been the knockout drug in the gas she'd been given through the rebreather mask. "Like you care."

He snatched the vessel away. "You're right. I don't. I said you'd get a reward for the truth and I gave it. Not my problem if you refuse my magnanimity. Next question: Do you work for the Tracy family?"

Unlike her name, the answer to this question was much more sensitive information and it was none of his business. The Alchemist already knew she did, but if he was watching her reactions as a means to establish some sort of baseline on when she lied and when she didn't, she wasn't going to help. She'd simply lie all the time. "No."

This time she heard the slight whoosh of displaced air as his hand flew into her right cheek, but not soon enough to move out of the way, even if there had been a place to go. Somehow, two blows so quick in succession were greater than the sum of their parts. She was sure the jawbone had shattered this time. The spear of pain and throbbing were nearly unbearable. Though she tried to will them away, pain-induced tears sprang unbidden from her eyes.

"Well, Maria, if you're going to cry over every little punishment, you need to start telling the truth, don't you think?"

She glared at his blurry outline, sobbing uncontrollably. "Leave me alone!" she whimpered.

"But why, when we're having so much fun?"

His blurry outline stepped out of her short range of sight and into the shadows. She heard rustling and rummaging, like he was looking for something. Then there was a zapping noise like electrical discharge from a Tesla coil. She saw the glowing blue-white arc of sparks before the object in his hand became visible. Red and shaped like a hairbrush, it was a drive-stun shocker, banned worldwide and only used by criminals. He held it close to her face and revved the spark discharger several times so she could understand its function.

"This one is easy, Maria. What is Alan Tracy's favourite food?"

So he intended to poison Alan and knowing what food would tempt him would make it easier to hide the poison. She was damn sure not going to tell this psycho he liked tacos. But what was safe to tell him? Alan liked a lot of foods. She blurted out the first icky thing to pop in her head: "Asparagus."

The drive-stun shocker was pressed to her neck and a jolt of electricity coursed through her entire body. Her muscles spasmed uncontrollably for what seemed like an eternity. Every nerve burned white hot. She truly thought she would pass out, but the flow of current stopped as abruptly as it had started and with it, the effects finally ended. Maria gasped for air; her breathing had been compromised by the spasms. Her nerves no longed burned, but the memory of the pain was hard to ignore.

He waved the red device in her face threateningly. "You want some more? Go ahead, lie again. What is Gordon Tracy's favourite food?"

She hadn't forgotten. She'd made his favourite last night, but this sadist wouldn't have any way to know that. Hopefully. "I don't know," she whimpered.

"Lie." More electricity, more spasms, and more fried nerves.

When her shaking stopped, he waited while she caught her breath, undoubtedly so he could continue to question and torture without her losing consciousness. She sincerely wished she could just pass out.

"What is John Tracy's favourite food?"

"I haven't even  _met_  John," she burbled through cries of pain. It was even sort of true. She'd only met him over comms, not in person.

"Don't lie to me," he growled. Something clicked on the device and its electrical hum changed frequencies. He must have upped the amperage. When it contacted her skin, the intensity was so much worse that she was certain this would make her head explode. Her spasming muscles and shrieking nerves finally overloaded and sent her into blissful unconsciousness.

She awoke to an epic migraine and the lingering throbbing of her face. It was still very dimly lit, but she could see the tissues swelling over her zygomatic and maxilla bones, impinging on her field of vision. It hurt to move her eyelids, but then again, just about everything hurt. She remained as still as she could, hoping to exploit her unconscious and unharassed state as long as possible.

"I hope you enjoyed your little nap," The Alchemist said. "It's the last you will get."

 _We'll see about that. I can pass out with the best of them._ What was he going to do to stop it? Did she dare hope the torturing was over?

"On to the next question. What is Virgil Tracy's favourite food?"

 _Really? More of the same old song?_  Virgil didn't have a specific favourite, at least not one he had shared. He liked protein foods, but he'd never stated a preference of one meat over another or one category over them all. Not that she had any intention of telling Mr. Torture anything about Virgil's food preferences anyway. Did she dare say she didn't know again? That didn't work before. The only option was to make something up and hope it didn't get Virgil poisoned. "Porridge with raisins."

"Wrong." His voice was cheerful, like he not only knew she lied, but was supremely giddy about it. She didn't see the red-hot piece of metal before it seared into her forearm with a sickening squelched hiss.

Maria screamed and struggled anew against the ropes at her wrists. The smell of burning flesh made her insides want to evacuate their contents, but she found nothing in her stomach to eject. A dry heave was all she could manage. Her eyes had clenched themselves shut, so she was surprised when she opened them to find the hot poker no longer in contact with her seared skin.  _When did he remove it?_ She wished again for her glasses so she could assess the damage with better information than mere pain. At least it hurt enough that she could be reasonably sure it wasn't third degree. The nerves were still working, damn them. Her crying produced too much nasal mucus and she had no way to blow her nose, so on top of everything else, she had to keep sucking in her snot so she could breathe.

The Alchemist just watched her. At least it appeared so with her blurry vision. For all she knew, he could be watching a clock just behind her head. While she hated the thought of him leering at her, at least it meant a small reprieve. Unfortunately, it didn't last. "What is Scott Tracy's favourite food?"

Granted, it would have been odd for him to ask everyone else's favourites and not Scott's, but this favourite food thing was becoming tedious. Maria didn't know what Scott's favourite was. She'd never had the guts to ask. He liked radishes quite a lot though. For a nanosecond, she was tempted to say radishes just at the outside chance it would avoid another punishment. But if Scott died eating poisoned radishes, she would never forgive herself.

She saw the branding iron move toward her forearm, just centimetres below the other burn. Her muscles tensed. "No! Please don't! I don't know Scott's favourite. He wouldn't tell me. He hates my guts."

The searing-hot object hovered over her skin threateningly, but he did stop its forward movement. "I'm listening." His voice was creaky with interest.

So the fiend somehow knew Scott hated her? Except that was hyperbole. Scott actually had a very high tolerance for disagreeable people. She could tell by the way he said a name like Langstrom Fischler that he didn't much like him, but he still rescued him time after time, even risking his own safety to do it. He might not be happy Maria was living in his house or dating his brother, but at least he never said her name with the nasty tone reserved for Langstrom Fischler, at least, not that she'd ever heard. Though her mind tried to think of some way to turn this around, nothing came to her. Silent seconds ticked by treacherously.

"You can't tell me you've been cooking for him for two months without paying any attention to what he ate and what he didn't," the Alchemist prodded.

True, she had made sure he was eating  _something_. Really the only person whose eating worried her was Kayo because she practically starved herself. Scott was eating and not complaining, and she didn't feel she had any right to expect any better when he made no secret of the fact he didn't want her around. "He eats almost everything. How can I tell you what I don't know?"

The Alchemist growled impatiently. "No answer is the same as a lie." She felt the radiating heat of the poker getting nearer her skin.

"Stop! Please. I can't take it." She cried piteously and struggled yet again with the ropes on her wrists. It was a measure of her desperation that she wished for the drive-stun shocker's return. Electrocution was worse in the short run, causing a higher intensity of pain that filled her entire body, but it was short-lived and didn't leave lingering burns or swelling, just the migraine, but that seemed a reasonable exchange.

"Then tell me one food Scott Tracy likes. Just one."

What would be the least likely food he would eat? "All right. You win." She looked down in defeat, hoping against hope he wouldn't know about the Tracy men's opinions concerning Sally's baking. "His grandma's cookies."

"Very funny," he sneered at her. She paid for her ploy with another searing brand, placed just below the first one. She had no way to prevent or curtail the scream that escaped her, but perhaps as a result of so much previous thrashing and screaming, she found her body too tired to sustain its physical manifestations of protest as long as she'd previously been able. Her hindered flailing dissolved into nervous twitches and panting sobs.


	17. Chapter 17

To say Sally was growing uncomfortable was an understatement. All the clothes were folded and waiting in the laundry basket. She needed to use the restroom, but she could get there by herself if necessary. She was more worried that Maria hadn't checked in with her. Did her insecure nurse decide to plant the entire island in radishes as a ploy to win over Scott?  _No, she said she only had a half a packet of seeds_. Sally tried to dismiss a swimming mishap but after discovering just last night that there were sharks lurking out in the shallows of their shore, it was pretty hard to discount the possibility. Maria never took more than an hour for her afternoon swim and it had been two hours now.

"Kayo, are you busy?" Sally asked over comms. She knew Kayo had to be around somewhere because  _Thunderbird Shadow_  was still on Tracy Island, according to its GPS status.

Kayo's holo-image popped up. From the looks of her position, it appeared she was climbing the rock wall down in the hangar. "Not at all. What's up?"

"Have you seen Maria, dear?"

Kayo shook her head. "No. How long has she been gone?"

"She left for her swim two hours ago. She's never taken this long before."

The look on Kayo's face suggested she understood this was out-of-character. "I'm on it." Her holo-image winked out.

Ten minutes later, Kayo brought Maria's eyeglasses, jandals, wristwatch, and towel into the lounge. "I found these down by the lagoon."

"Those are hers," Sally confirmed. "You don't think a shark may have got her, do you?"

Kayo gave her a noncommittal glance. "Let's not assume the worst." She hit the comms button on her wrist. " _Thunderbird 5_ , I'm reporting a missing person. I need _Thunderbird 4._ Now."

Sally bit back her slight irritation. She'd really wanted Kayo to handle this quietly. If Maria was just taking her time, exploring a reef or something, she was going to be very embarrassed by all this. However, getting Gordon to focus on the water was probably a lot better idea than flying overhead in _Thunderbird Shadow_.

John's holo-image popped up in the centre of the lounge, his face all business. "What's the situation, Kayo?"

"Maria is missing. She told Grandma Tracy she was going for a swim and I found her personal items down by the lagoon, but she's an hour overdue. I need to go out with Gordon and search the water around the island."

Gordon came running into the lounge, obviously having heard the call. "I thought she was a good swimmer?"

Kayo nodded. "She is. Let's not assume anything. We're just following a lead."

John looked at Kayo and Gordon. "You two got this?"

Gordon nodded. "Affirmative,  _Thunderbird 5._ We're on it." They both went their separate ways for gear-up.

John's image still hovered in the lounge. "She'll be okay, Grandma."

 _Will she?_  Sally really wasn't sure. International Rescue couldn't fix this if she'd already been gobbled up by a shark. However, doubts and worry didn't help. She smiled weakly. "Thanks, John."

* * *

_Thunderbird 4_  was in the Number 4 cargo module after its last mission, but it took less than three minutes to have the robotic arm remove it from the module and place it in its own launch bay. Gordon started the process before his gear-up, so it was ready when he and Kayo both emerged in uniform. They boarded from the hangar dock and took off from the island cave.

" _Thunderbird 4_  is go!" Gordon exclaimed as they exited the cave into open water. "Where to?"

"Where did you see the shark yesterday?" Kayo asked.

Gordon pointed toward the area. "Over there, but you should know I looked that shark up. She wasn't wrong. Basking sharks really do eat plankton. Totally harmless to humans."

"I don't doubt it, but just because  _that_  shark was harmless, doesn't mean an aggressive one didn't show up today. Scan the water for blood."

Gordon gave her a wide-eyed look. "Who's going to tell Grandma if we find any?"

Kayo didn't like where this was going. "I'll tell  _her_ , if _you_ tell Virgil."

He gulped. "No way." He directed his attention to the scans. "Hmm, that's odd."

"What?"

He pressed a button and a long hydrocarbon molecule displayed on the screen. "I'm getting trace amounts of a really strange, really old fuel. Database says it's biodiesel, which is renewable and relatively cheap, but super inefficient compared to modern alternatives."

"Could it be from a ruptured tank somewhere?"

Gordon shook his head. "Negative. See that?" He pointed at the display showing all the various substances picked up by the scan. "Those are products of combustion. It's not leaking out of a tank. It's been _used_."

"Can you tell which way it went?"

"I don't know." He hit his comms button. " _Thunderbird 5_ , can you scan around the island for biodiesel and its combustion products? I think we had an unauthorised visitor."

"You got it,  _Thunderbird 4_." John did his scan from space, which could never be as precise as the local scans, but which had the advantage of a broad range and good overall view. In a few seconds he had a visual of the residue's dispersal pattern.

"Course heading one-two-nine,  _Thunderbird 4_ ," John said. "It goes another sixty metres from your position, but after that, it's gone."

"Thanks, _Thunderbird 5_." Gordon replied. "Bearing one-two-nine."

They took John's heading, which was the opposite direction from where Gordon said the shark was the day before.  _Thunderbird 4_  moved at minimal impeller speed so that scans could pick up the most data possible. Kayo let Gordon watch the instruments while she visually scanned the waters and the sea floor. Something caught her eye. She pointed out the window. "Over there. What's that yellow thing?"

Gordon steered toward it. "Good eye, Kayo. It's a swim cap. Did Maria use one?"

Kayo had seen Maria on the hidden surveillance footage coming and going from her swims every day. She nodded. "That's hers. Get us closer."

When they were right on top of it, they could see it had been ripped. Gordon frowned. "Do you think she ditched it because it broke?"

"No way. Maria is obsessive about pollution. She would never leave it in the ocean. Besides, how would it suddenly rip out here?"

Neither of them wanted to guess.

Kayo pointed again. "Gordon, can you see those little white things over on that rock?"

He manoeuvred over to where she indicated. "Just some shells. No help."

"No, they're not just 'some shells'. Those are puka shells and Maria said the sea snail they come from is extinct. Her puka necklace was handed down from a great-grandfather who got it nearly a hundred years ago. See if you can find the rest of it."

They found a partially intact string of shells with the clear nylon line attached to the screw-barrel clasp, which was still fastened. The necklace had definitely been broken. "I'm going out to get it," Gordon said as he crossed his arms over his chest and started to lean back.

Although Kayo agreed Maria would want her heirloom necklace back and she was really impressed with Gordon for being that considerate, the biodiesel trail had to be dissipating by the second. She grabbed Gordon's knee to stop him, but before she could explain why, she changed her mind and let go. "Get the swim cap too. There might be fingerprints on it."

"Good thinking." He swam out, gathered the necklace, swim cap, something else Kayo couldn't see, and then as many of the loose puka shells as were within easy reach. He seemed to understand that he couldn't waste time looking for all of the missing shells, but swam back to _Thunderbird 4_  quickly. The object Kayo couldn't see turned out to be swim goggles with a broken strap.

"Get the exact coordinates of this location," Kayo said. "I want to cross-check with the mountain security cameras and see if they picked anything up."

Gordon took the GPS reading and relayed it to Brains. Kayo explained what they'd found and asked Brains to go through the island security cams and review the last three hours of anything that was pointed near this spot.

"W-working on it," he promised.

"Kayo, the biodiesel trail just ends here," Gordon said, looking at his instruments. It was about the same place as John had said. Had the course continued, it was headed southeast into the vast Pacific basin. It could literally be going anywhere.

"Shouldn't the readings drop off more gradually?" she asked.

Brains' holo-image popped up on the dash. "N-Not necessarily, Kayo. Diesel engines need air to operate. Old submarines would use the engines to ch-charge a battery on the surface, or close to it, using a snort tube, and then they could submerge and t-travel on the battery without needing air."

"Is there any by-product from the battery use that I can scan for?" Gordon asked.

Brains sighed. "Sorry, Gordon, b-but no."

"Well, then let's hope the security cameras are more help," Kayo said.

" _Thunderbird 4_  returning to base," Gordon said in a deflated tone.

* * *

Sally didn't like the way clues were adding up. Biodiesel residue that close to their island, a broken necklace, broken goggles, and Maria's swim cap torn. Scott was nearly home, but Virgil and Alan were still out on a mission. Virgil wasn't very happy that he couldn't just drop what he was doing to help with Maria's search, but Sally assured him everyone was already doing the best they could and there was nothing he could do right now anyhow. Since Virgil and Alan didn't need Brains, John routed their comms to  _Thunderbird 5_  so they could concentrate on their mission and the lounge didn't have so much conflicting noise at once. Sally watched the security cam footage with Brains, but it was just a bunch of waves and swells.

Kayo, Gordon, and Scott all ended up in the lounge within minutes of each other. Kayo spoke first: "Brains, did you find anything?"

"N-Not yet, Kayo, but there's a l-lot to go through."

"What did I miss?" Scott asked as he collapsed into a seat.

Kayo showed him the broken necklace, goggles, and swim cap at the same time as she said, "We found biodiesel residue. Someone came in close and we never saw them."

"Why was Maria out there anyway?" Scott asked. "We have a perfectly good swimming pool."

Kayo looked at him and shook her head. "Only _you_ would ask that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He looked exhausted and that exhaustion was translating to grouchy when it came to his interactions.

Sally didn't like Scott questioning Maria's exercise break, as if swimming in the ocean were some sort of infraction, but fighting now wasn't going to help anyone. She adopted her nicest grandmotherly tone. "What she means, Scott, is that you've never been in the pool when  _Thunderbird 1_  is coming or going, which is quite often these days, and there's no warning."

"It's not dangerous when the pool retracts," Scott retorted defensively. "It just gets a little dark, that's all."

Kayo couldn't resist a comeback, but at least she toned her voice down. "Some of us like to breathe something other than _your_ thruster exhaust."

Realisation dawned. Scott cringed. "Point taken. Sorry."

Kayo backed off and dropped it, for which Sally was grateful. The Head of Security picked up her tablet and started working on something. Sally knew better than to interrupt. It would only slow Kayo down to have to explain what she was doing. She'd share if she found anything relevant.

Brains called, "S-Stop!" Everyone looked at him, but he was staring at the projection of the security cam footage. The picture had frozen on his command. The only thing visible besides tiny ocean waves was a yellow dot, like the head of a pushpin.

Kayo looked up. "Magnify and enhance," she ordered.

The picture zoomed in and focused to show a swimmer wearing a yellow cap and performing a crawl stroke. It was too far away to make out any other details. In fact, if Maria hadn't been wearing that cap, she might have been missed completely. Her diveskin suit blended in perfectly with the water and very little of her arms and legs weren't covered.

"Forward, half speed," Kayo ordered. The swimmer glided across the screen for a few seconds and then she suddenly disappeared, but it didn't look like any normal dive movement. The water around her became turbulent, but she never resurfaced. Several in the room gasped.

"Go back eight seconds," Kayo said. The footage reverted. "Now forward, twenty percent speed." She let the scene unfold in super slow motion. "Stop. Maximum magnification."

The final zoom showed the swimmer just before she disappeared and something black reaching up and around her back. It was a bit pixelated at intense magnification, but it was clear enough to see it was definitely not any shark fin or octopus tentacle.

"Is that... a hand?" Scott asked.

"That's a hand," Kayo confirmed. "This was a kidnapping."

They left the playback frozen at that point. Kayo went back to her tablet and Brains turned to examining the physical evidence Gordon had brought back. After seeing that the hands that grabbed Maria were covered in diving gloves, it was unsurprising that a scan of the swim cap revealed only Maria's fingerprints on it.

Virgil's, Alan's, and John's holo-images popped into the room. Virgil said, "This is _Thunderbird 2_. Mission complete. Returning to base."

Sally said, "Good job, you two." Merely finishing had to have been hard for Virgil.

Alan looked sideways at Virgil and then back to head-on. "Well, if you're not asking, _I_ am. What's going on with Maria?"

Sally didn't want to tell Virgil news of this magnitude while he was flying. She alone knew just how much he cared about Maria. No one else was speaking up to answer Alan. Sally drew a breath. "Virgil, maybe you should let Alan take over  _Thunderbird 2_ for a bit."

Virgil glanced at Alan, then nodded and released his yoke. Alan tilted the co-pilot's yoke down and took control. "I got her, Grandma. Give us the sit-rep."

Was there any way to soften this blow? Sally looked around the room for inspiration or a way out, but no solution came. She inhaled deeply. "It looks like someone grabbed Maria from underwater while she was swimming. We don't know anything else yet, but everyone is working on it."

"Grabbed?" Virgil said. "By who? Why?"

"Like I said, Virgil, we don't know. All we have is this." She nodded at Kayo to transmit the frozen video image they had all just seen.

Kayo spoke up as she sent it. "We're going to find her, Virgil. I promise."

"Anything we can do?" Alan asked.

Scott answered this time. "Not yet. Come on home."

Alan nodded. "We're on our way.  _Thunderbird 2_  out." Alan's image vanished. Virgil's remained, but he looked stunned, like he didn't know where he was or what to say.

"You okay, Virgil?" Sally asked.

He shook his head. "No, I don't think so."

"You just sit back and let Alan get you home."

He let his head fall back on the headrest, but he stared off into the distance, looking numb and lost. He left his comms on. No one had the heart to disconnect him.

After a few awkward seconds, Brains resumed his examination of physical evidence. He addressed Gordon, "How d-did you find a shell necklace on an ocean floor literally t-teeming with shells?" He sounded impressed.

"Kayo saw it first. She said the critter that these shells come from is extinct or something."

"That is c-correct, Gordon. The cone snail d-died out from habitat destruction. Its ecosystem collapsed due to ocean acidification and extensive b-bottom trawling. These shells used to be so numerous that anyone could just p-pick them up off the beaches. Now we have to make this style of necklace out of glass or c-clay."

"I got something," Kayo said. She projected some underwater footage from her tablet into the room for everyone to see. "This is from  _Thunderbird 4_ 's 'maintenance shakedown' yesterday."

Gordon cringed. "Really? Do we have to bring that up again? I apologised and everything."

Kayo waved him off. "It's not about you, Gordon. I was thinking whoever was out there may have been waiting a while for their opportunity. Maria skipped her regular swim yesterday, so they missed her then, but what if your aft cameras caught them lurking in wait?"

His eyes widened. "What did you find?"

Kayo started the footage. It was just a bunch of fish swimming around with some seaweed and rocks thrown in to make it easier to hide. When they could see The Hood's old ship wreckage, Kayo said, "Stop." She touched her screen to highlight what she wanted and the display projected a yellow circle magnifying something hiding behind a piece of broken ship that was covered in coral and anemones. It was very hard to see in the shadows, but after a tweak to the contrast, they saw a small black vessel with a neon green symbol on it—three hexagon rings.

Scott growled, "The Alchemist."

Gordon piped in, "Wait, there was another submarine that close, and my sensors didn't pick it up? I'll admit I was a little distracted yesterday, but I would have seen that."

Kayo shook her head. "They had to be powered down. You picked them up, but just as another piece of metal among all those metal wrecked parts."

"If they were there yesterday, why didn't they grab Maria then? Why wait another day?" Sally asked.

Kayo answered, "They couldn't risk using engines as long as  _Thunderbird 4_ was in the water. By the time _Thunderbird 2_ picked up the module, Maria was nearly at the lagoon. She really _is_  a good swimmer."

"We should notify the GDF." Scott stood and took up his habitual action-planning pose.

"Good idea," Kayo agreed, "but kidnapping or not, this is _my_ mission. The security of Tracy Island is my responsibility, and that includes anyone working here."

Sally noticed Virgil mouth the word 'kidnapping' to himself, but he listened without interrupting.

"Kayo, all our alarms are s-set to alert us when someone violates our airspace or our b-boundaries on _land_. This was not your f-fault," Brains said.

"She's been swimming out there for weeks. I knew it and didn't take steps."

Scott stared Kayo down, looking like he was about to argue.

Kayo stood and faced him. "Scott, don't say it's not our job. This is the search part of search-and-rescue."

"You're right. As long as we're searching for  _Maria_ , not The Alchemist. If we happen to find The Alchemist in the process, great, but this has to be about _rescue_ , not  _revenge_ , clear?"

Kayo nodded. "F.A.B." Gordon also nodded his agreement.

Scott planted his hands on his hips. "The GDF will assist  _ **us**_  on this, not the other way around."

The room was silent for nearly ten seconds and then Virgil broke the silence with a soft voice that wavered just a little. "Thanks, Scott."


	18. Chapter 18

Telling The Alchemist that Kayo's favourite food was strawberries when Maria knew full well that Kayo avoided them due to a sensitivity earned her a third branding on her forearm. She was mentally prepared to get punished for hiding Sally's favourite and faking something for Brains, whose favourite she didn't know, but The Alchemist unexpectedly left. Of course, he could just be behind a bulkhead, but any reprieve was better than none.

Everything hurt. Maria let her head fall back against the chair and tried to breathe deeply, but her body wasn't allowing anything resembling rest. Her cheeks and jaws throbbed, feeling like every heartbeat expanded their swelling, causing the pressure to build to explosive levels. That alone would have been enough, but her face had to vie for attention with the now thrice-seared left forearm. Maybe his next punishment would be something merciful, like chopping off that stupid arm. She had to be losing her sanity if dismemberment was starting to sound good.

Time was passing strangely. She couldn't have said if it was seconds or hours before The Alchemist returned. No matter how long he'd been away, his return was much too soon. Maria's insides clenched up. She wanted to launch into a truly vulgar diatribe, perhaps in Spanish to reduce the risk he would understand, but she probably couldn't disguise her tone enough to fool him and she was too afraid of the consequences. It was one thing to pay a high price to keep secrets that could get other people killed, but the price was too high to pay for stupid things like insulting a psychopath just to feel a fleeting moment of satisfaction.

He pressed her right hand against the chair arm and growled, "Hold still."

Like the ropes around her wrists weren't enough? In another second, a sharp stab clarified what he was doing. He'd hit the vein on the back of her hand with a peripheral intravenous needle. Horrified, her first reaction was to jerk her hand away, but he held it very tight and what little movement she was able to effect only caused her more pain at the entry wound. The needle was in and there was nothing she could do about it. Breaking the needle off inside her vein was not a good idea. She gave up fighting it while he taped down the tubing. He attached a bag and hung it up, but she couldn't see the bag clearly, much less make out any label. "What's that for?" she asked, even though the answer couldn't possibly be good.

His voice was amused when he told her, "A little concoction of my own device. Some sodium thiopental, flunitrazepam, quinalbarbitone, and various assorted benzodiapines." He most likely thought his laundry list of chemical names would sound frightening, and he was right, but not the way he probably assumed. She wasn't the type that would be terrified for being forced to drink pure dihydrogen monoxide. Years of chemistry classes and medical school weren't completely useless. One of those drugs was widely used for assisted suicide and another one used to be the drug of choice for lethal injections back when judicial systems imposed a death penalty. Beyond that, they were sedative, hypnotic, psychoactive, and all had a history of being used to loosen lips and get the truth from unwilling interrogation subjects.  _It's a freaking truth serum_.

However, Maria's panic over the possibility of impending death or the likelihood she'd be completely unable to keep any more secrets didn't last because this chemical cocktail wouldn't allow it. Even though she understood her loss of fear was drug induced and unreliable in the absolute sense, she had no control over the way she started to feel. It was like a super groovy influx of relaxation, apathy, and delirium. The pain still existed, but she was floating along so happily that the pain was like a buzzing fly, an irritation she could just wave aside for now.

A part of her brain knew this was very bad. She'd very soon lose all will to fight suggestions and spill the contents of her head without regard to its consequences. Some corner of her mind had an idea that seemed important, although where it came from or whether it would accomplish anything, she didn't know, but something told her she  _needed_  to sing. Like, a lot. She also couldn't explain why this song was the one that had to spring forth from her off-key lips, but it was most likely  _ **his**_  fault for throwing medical school into the forefront of her brain with his list of drug names.

She'd written her own little ditty to remember the names of all 320 skeletal muscle sets and set it to the tune of "I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major-General." With the last ounce of resolution she had, her crazy invented song burst out on him in all its show-tune spectacular glory, courtesy of a complete lack of inhibition, which was also  _his_  fault, damn him.

Gilbert and Sullivan's version certainly was a hit with audiences, but Maria's version packed a punch they lacked, that being memorisation of her song actually served a purpose and got her through anatomy class with flying colours. Sure, she still had to learn the origins, insertions, and actions separately, but that didn't feel as difficult once you had the names to hang them on.

Of course, to make the syllables fit the tune and to provide rhyme to aid memorisation, the song ended up even weirder and longer than Sullivan's version of the lyrics. It was sort of sad Maria couldn't make out The Alchemist's facial expression while she regaled him with her mnemonic masterpiece. A line or two into her performance, she couldn't remember why this was important, but even when her singing became slurred and slowed-down due to her drug-induced state, she didn't waver in her resolve to belt out the entire crazy number—all six freaking stanzas.

Unfortunately, even a long song couldn't last forever. She wrapped it up on a slightly off-key but heartfelt crescendo of the song's last lyric, "cricothyroid". She'd always thought that making the outtro end with a vocal cord muscle was genius. Now more intoxicated than any alcohol could ever make her, her neck went limp and her head drooped over, like taking an unintended bow for her performance.

"Brava, my dear." The Alchemist sounded... _amused?_  She didn't have the brain power to analyse anything very well right now. "But enough gibberish. Let's go back over my previous questions, and this time you will tell the truth. What is Alan Tracy's favourite food?"

"Tacos." She felt a tiny pang of regret after uttering the word, but it didn't feel as sharp as it should have been. She was flying high as a kite and had no control over her mouth. That lack of control extended to leaving her answer at just one word. She kept going without pause, "He loves my tacos so much and he's so thankful when I make them, that I want to make them every day just to see his eyes light up. Speaking of his eyes, Alan only has eyes for Kayo. And why shouldn't he? She's basically Wonder Woman but prettier and she has a better uniform. She can kick anyone's ass and she even has the invisible plane when she uses that 'optical camouflage' thingy on her _Thunderbird_. Technically, she doesn't have bullet-proof bracelets, but that's only because she hasn't mentioned the idea to Brains. He'd probably whip some up for her in a second if she asked for them. Brains could make anything. If Brains cared about money, he could make zillions of dollars or euros or pounds or yen or pesos or—"

"Stop!"

Unlike with the song, she'd just been rambling in a random stream of consciousness and when he interrupted that stream, she lost her train of thought and ceased yammering. She just sat there, stunned and delirious, but at least she wasn't able to feel that buzzing fly of pain that hovered dangerously just outside her mind.

"What is Gordon Tracy's favourite food?"

"Hot dogs. Granted, not the most nutritious food in the world but I'd make him hot dogs all the time if it would get him to stop eating those nasty Celery Crunch bars and the spray cheese. Those packaged things are so full of preservatives and have super wasteful wrappers. It doesn't help that Gordon's lazy when it comes to picking up his trash. Not lazy in everything, mind you, just the trash. You don't get legs like his if you're a totally lazy person. You know what I mean? Gosh, his legs are so sexy it's painful. I don't know how Lady Penelope can resist him. Maybe she's into women? I wonder if Gordon has ever thought of—"

"Enough! Just stick to the question I asked and relevant matters about the Tracys, if you would."

"Relevant matters? What does that mean? If you wanted me to keep my mouth shut, you shouldn't have pumped truth serum into my veins, you dipstick scumbag. I mean, I was  _trying_  to keep my mouth shut before, when you were all 'bash the tied-up girl in the face' and 'let's have fun with high voltage electricity' and 'how about we get some molten lava bars and burn her entire arm for shits and giggles'.  _Now_  you want me to stop talking?"

"Yes. Shut up. Now."

Groovy drugs being what they were, she didn't care enough to argue. But she did suddenly have an uncontrollable urge to sing Simon and Garfunkel's "Feelin' Groovy" and whether singing was covered under shutting up or not, she didn't care. So her mouth opened and out came an only slightly slurred, "Slow down, you move too fast..."

"No! Stop! No more singing!"

But she was on a roll and didn't care, so he got the whole freaking song whether he wanted it or not, the dipstick scumbag. The analytical piece of her brain was pretty much out of commission at the moment, but what was left of it wondered whether reducing or increasing the I.V. drip would be more effective in stopping her singing. Of course, increasing might be risking her death, but did he care? Doubtful. Then again, the order-giving unctuous dude said to leave her alive for phase two, so maybe this sadist had to endure her shenanigans no matter what. She kind of felt like she should try harder to thwart him, but she was feeling groovy and not into the thwarting scene at the moment. The song ended.

"Without singing, tell me, what is John Tracy's favourite food?"

"Well, Dipstick Scumbag, like I told you before, I haven't even met John in person because he lives on a space station, like a zillion kilometres away. The only thing I know is that he usually asks Virgil to send him a double cheeseburger with extra pickles from some fast food joint. I don't even know what continent this burger stand is on. John tried my breakfast biscuits and my tacos, but I didn't get a Yelp review back or anything. At least he's very polite to me and he doesn't seem to mind me living in his family's house like Scott does. If it wasn't for eating, I'd think he was a robot. He's super busy. Oh, except when he is playing space-handball with some pretty lady astronaut. Maybe  _she_  makes him cheeseburgers? I don't know. It's none of my business. Why are you making me talk about him when I don't even know him?"

"You can stop now."

"Groovy."

"Don't sing. Like, ever again."

"Why don't  _ **you**_  just shut up, Dipstick Scumbag." For some reason, she got a huge kick out of calling him dipstick scumbag.

"What is Virgil Tracy's favourite food?"

"Meat and eggs and cheese—basically anything with protein. He's never told me anything more specific, but he's very easy to please. I mean, why else would he be courting me? He'll probably figure out how boring I am and dump me like a hot potato in a couple of weeks. But that's no reason not to enjoy it while it lasts, no matter how short that time might—"

"Wait. You're dating Virgil Tracy?"

"Well, we prefer to call it courting, but 'dating' is close enou—"

"Why isn't that in your diary?"

"My what? Oh, my journal." She was too plastered to wonder how The Alchemist knew what was in her journal. "I haven't had time to update it in the last few days."

"Are you still dating Gordon as well?"

"What? No, I was never dating Gordon. I thought he asked me out, but he just wanted to ask advice about Lady Penelope. I don't know where he got the idea I was good with any kind of relationship advice because I suck. I've never had a boyfriend past the second date and even the one time I did, it was because someone else bet him a bunch of money to endure my presence that long. He got rich and I got dumped."

"Forget your pathetic problems. Tell me about Virgil and I don't mean his legs."

"What  _do_  you mean then, Dipstick Scumbag? Virgil probably has really sexy legs too. I just haven't seen them because he wears jeans when he's off-duty and his uniform isn't as form-fitting as Gordon's. I mean, drooling over sexy legs is incredibly shallow and I hate it when other people judge me by my looks, so I have no business looking at anyone else, much less the grandsons of the very nice lady I work for. For your information, Virgil has the voice of an angel and awesome hair and the deltoids of a Greek god, and he's sweet and funny and brave and handsome and selfless. I'm pretty sure I'm in love with him but I can't tell him that because we just got together and he hasn't had time to figure out how boring and useless I am yet. Plus he'll probably hate me when I can't save his grandma. Then I won't have a job, or a home, or a boyfriend."

"You'll be dead long before that ever becomes a problem," he said with a cackle. Then he shook his head. "How can one person be so full of useless information? What about the one who hates your guts—Scott?"

"He doesn't really hate my guts. He doesn't want me around and he doesn't want me to date his brother, but hate is too strong of a word. He's too good of a person for that. He's very noble and insanely brave and he's got the cutest dimples. Are you going to ask his favourite food? I don't know because I'm too scared of him to ask. He does like radishes though. And if I thought planting a million radishes would change his mind about me enough that he'd stop giving Virgil a hard time, I'd buy a whole pallet of seeds and plant them every spare moment I had. Somehow, I don't think he likes radishes  _that_  much though. So too bad, Scumbag, you don't get a food to hide your poison in from me."

"You think this was all about food for hiding poison?" The Alchemist broke into a fit of loud and hearty laughter.

Had Maria not been inebriated by drugs she never asked for, she might have felt bad about being laughed at. Instead, she just floated along in her groovy mood, wishing she could get the joke.

Panting between laughs, he said, "I don't have to poison anyone because you're going to kill them all _for_  me."

"Like hell I will."  _Wow, that felt good_.

"Oh, maybe not intentionally, but you  _ **will**_  do my bidding. They'll be along to rescue you and you'll take my special delivery back to them and all of you will die. As if I have to pump idiots for my victim's favourite foods to get the job done." He laughed some more, having a jolly time of it.

"What special delivery?" Maria asked. Maybe that would help her get the joke.

"Our agents for phase two." He cackled some more as if this were another joke in itself.

The Alchemist left again, whether to get over his fits of laughter or for some other nefarious purpose, Maria couldn't guess. But at least he left her with her happy juice I.V. intact and that kept the pain at bay.

 


	19. Chapter 19

The GDF assigned a kidnapping expert to the Tracy family to aid their investigation. Kayo didn't think it was necessary, but she couldn't argue that she had any training in the field, so she hoped the agent would help rather than hinder. He had worked with the FBI, MI5, and Interpol and he was willing to collaborate over comms so they didn't have to wait on travel time. Colonel Casey introduced him as Detective James Jenson and then she exited the conference call. The detective's holo-image projected from the lounge's centre table. He looked a little older than Parker, but he had a smaller nose. His hair was all silvery white and styled like Brains'.

"You can call me Jim," he said.

Scott started to stand and take the lead, but Kayo stood faster and used a subtle hand motion to encourage him to sit. She'd already told him this mission was hers and she wasn't afraid to say it again if he forgot. Scott sat with the rest of the family. Everyone was home except John, whose holo-image hovered just behind the detective's.

"I'm Kayo, Head of Security for International Rescue. I'll be your contact."

"Colonel Casey gave me a rundown of what you've already found. She said there was no ransom demand. Is that right?"

"Not yet," Kayo said. She wouldn't put it past The Alchemist to use Maria as leverage to destroy International Rescue, get the  _Thunderbirds_ , and/or confiscate Tracy Island. The Hood had tried it often enough that there should be books on the subject by now. Just because there wasn't a ransom yet, didn't mean it wasn't coming.

"Okay, I'd like to get a feel for Maria's routine. Walk me through a typical day."

Grandma Tracy spoke first. "She comes to my room at 6 a.m. and helps me get up and get to the restroom and get dressed. We usually go down to the kitchen first."

Detective Jim appeared to be taking notes on a tablet. He listened and nodded encouragingly.

"She makes breakfast and feeds everyone as they wake up or as they come home from missions, then she helps me up the stairs. I usually sit here and monitor the boys on comms throughout the day."

Kayo sensed Grandma Tracy was going to narrate the whole day, minute by minute, so she interjected. "I have a month's worth of security cam footage if it will save us time."

"Of Maria?" Virgil asked.

Kayo nodded. "Yes, of Maria. The kitchen, lounge, halls, pool area, and her garden. Everything but bedrooms and bathrooms."

Grandma Tracy patted Virgil's shoulder. "Don't blame Kayo. I told her to set up cameras, just in case Scott was right."

"Can you show me the highlights?" Detective Jim asked.

Kayo got her tablet out and synced it with comms, then she started running footage in fast-forward, using a day from last week as a good representation of average. Everyone watched as Maria went about cooking, cleaning, gardening, and stopping at least once an hour to help Grandma Tracy. Kayo chanced a look at Scott to see him surprised to realise Maria was actually doing not only what she'd been expected to do, but some extra beyond as well.

"Wait. What is she doing there?" Alan asked.

Kayo slowed the footage down to normal speed. It was one of Maria's secret music sessions. "Looks to me like she's dancing," Kayo said. Alan and Gordon laughed at her moves, which were admittedly on the silly side.

"She thinks she's alone," Grandma Tracy said with a stern voice in the direction of Alan and Gordon.

"But she's not, is she?" Kayo said, driving a pointed look at Virgil.

Virgil cringed and admitted, "Yeah, I may have eavesdropped a couple times."

Kayo happened to know it was more than "a couple" but she didn't correct him in front of the others. She switched the footage to a camera just outside the kitchen where sure enough, Virgil was listening and peeking from behind a corner. Virgil let Alan and Gordon laugh at him for a few seconds, then he said quite seriously, "Don't you see how happy she is in there? I think it's adorable."

"Awww," they gushed and the laughter played out.

Kayo pushed fast-forward again and the day went by in speed mode. Maria paid attention when she was in the lounge, like she was studying their every move, but she never lingered very long, as if watching rescues was a treat she couldn't indulge in because it was a dereliction of her duties. They saw her cook, clean, do laundry, garden, help Grandma Tracy, and leave for her swim, then come back, help Grandma again, cook some more, feed people, clean up, attend Grandma Tracy, and clean some more. The last thing she did was clean the lounge at the end of the day.

After a general pickup and dusting the baby grand piano, Maria started with Lady Penelope's picture on the coffee table, cleaned the eye lenses of her holo-projector, then dusted and polished the picture frame. She bowed her head and stood there a moment, then went on to the wall portraits, starting with Kayo's. She did the same thing for each picture, cleaning the lenses hidden in the eyes, then the frames, then taking a moment's pause at each one before going to the next one.

"What's she doing there?" Scott asked.

"I think it's pretty obvious, isn't it? She does that every night—well, except last night."

Virgil said, "My fault," at the same time as Grandma asserted, "She had the night off."

"Is she... praying?" John asked.

Kayo cleared her throat. "You'd have to ask  _her_. I think that's a good guess. Also could be meditating or simply sending good vibes."  _And she does it for_ _ **all**_ _of us, almost every night_.

The footage ran as Maria made her way across the room. She spent longer with her head bowed in front of Scott's picture than she did in front of any of the others. Kayo left it normal speed on purpose.  _Come on, Scott, does that look like the actions of a spy?_

When Maria turned out all the lights and took the stairs in the dark, Kayo hit stop, then addressed the detective. "That's pretty much what she does every day."

"And when she's in her room, she leaves the door open almost all the time," Grandma Tracy added. "She spends most of her free time reading."

"That was helpful, thanks," Detective Jim said. "I saw her using a tablet. Is it missing or can you find it?"

"She was swimming, so she wouldn't have had it with her," Grandma Tracy said.

"I'll go look in her room," Kayo said. She'd been there just yesterday by permission, so it didn't seem as much of a violation of privacy as if anyone else would do it. Plus, if she didn't volunteer, Virgil probably would, and she didn't think that was a good idea. Being in her room with her missing sounded like too much for him to bear just now.

Maria's tablet wasn't difficult to find. She'd left it in the pocket of her apron, waiting on the bed to put back on after her swim. Kayo was back in the lounge with the tablet in under a minute. When she returned, Scott was telling John to forward all rescue calls. "We're all busy right now," Scott said. He sounded like he meant it.  _Good_.

Kayo waved Maria's tablet. "Got it." She clicked the power on and synced it the same way she had done with her own tablet just minutes before. This way, anything she found could be projected for everyone else to see, including Detective Jim.

Maria only had four file folders on her tablet besides the various apps. The first held her music: oldies, show tunes, and children's songs. The second folder was labeled "Cooking" and contained literally hundreds of recipes. However, just as Kayo was about to close the folder, she noticed some pictures of what appeared to be failed attempts at her favourite food. She put a photo on the projection.

"Hey, did anyone ever see this when she made it?" Kayo asked.

"Eww, what  _is_  that?" Alan asked.

"It looks like she tried to make sushi."

"I don't think it worked," Scott observed.

Kayo resisted a Captain Obvious remark. "It's not easy to make. I can't believe she tried. I told her not to worry about it. Worse, what happened to the failure? I would have eaten that!"

"She was probably too embarrassed to let you see it," Grandma Tracy said. "She's kind of a perfectionist when it comes to food."

The third folder was labeled, "Things I Need to Look Up". It was a long list of topics that aligned with the rescues and various Tracy family discussions from the last couple of months. A lot of the terms didn't have definitions or explanations added yet, but the first thirty topics did.

Scott frowned. "Why would she keep a list like this?"

Grandma Tracy chuckled. "Because Maria thinks she's the only one who doesn't understand everything Brains does. You boys all talk about these things like they're common knowledge. I don't understand everything, but I'm old and content with not understanding. She isn't. So she looks things up. Relax, Scott. Do you see anything about International Rescue? These aren't our secrets, they're subjects anyone can look up on the Internet."

Kayo opened the file on quantum mechanics. There were six pages of text and several diagrams. She highlighted the entire text and did a search on the Internet. The closest match was only 21%.

Brains let out a little "Wow." Everyone looked at him. He explained, "Th-that means Maria didn't copy and p-paste this. She read up on it until she understood and then she wr-wrote it in her own words."

"Did she get it right?" John asked.

Brains scanned the file intently. "It's fairly basic, but y-yes."

"So now we know what she's reading in her time off," Grandma said.

"And she's smarter than we all thought," Alan said with a bit of awe.

Kayo scoffed. "You don't know the half of it."

Detective Jim perked up. "What do you mean?"

Kayo sighed. She hadn't really intended to give away this secret, but she'd opened her mouth and had to explain herself now. "Grandma Tracy had me check out her credentials because we've had some problems with employees in the past. So I checked her out. The background checks done by Lady Penelope told us she went to medical school. Grandma Tracy asked her why she didn't list it on her résumé and Maria said she 'flunked out' which is technically true. They have to fail students who drop out and don't finish, but her grades up to that point were actually pretty good. When she took her Step 1 board exams, she scored fifth highest in the school's history."

"So why did she drop out then?" Virgil asked.

Kayo turned to him and spoke gently. "You should probably ask her that when you see her, Virgil. She may want to tell you her own way."

The Head of Security directed her gaze back to Detective Jim. "I only found all this out by flying out and talking to the president of Stephen Q. Watson College of Medicine in person, because none of this is in Maria's official transcript or school records. This president wasn't in charge when Maria was attending. Anyway, it turns out Maria was harassed by a really prominent doctor who was their Director of Clinical Rotations at the time. This director person was supposed to be a mentor to her and help her become a doctor. Instead, he did everything in his power to try to make a fool of her, embarrass her, and generally make her life miserable.

"He started with legitimate medical questions, but when Maria had all the right answers and he couldn't crack her, he got obsessed and used other methods, some of them illegal. He got caught two years later and was eventually arrested for what he'd done to students after her time. One day, the Clinical Rotations Director bullied her to the point of tears in front of three witnesses, one of them the current president. When he yelled, 'If you can't stand the heat, you should get out of the kitchen,' she finally decided she'd had enough and did exactly what he suggested. She dropped out that very day."

"She told me she was very relieved," Grandma Tracy said. "Now I can see why."

Everyone was silent after that, so Kayo returned her attention to the tablet. The final folder was labeled 'Misc'. Kayo opened it to find a bunch of old shopping lists, a list of the seeds she had planted in the garden by date, and a journal. The journal had all kinds of reminders and notes: some favourite foods, dislikes, and day-to-day highlights of her life on Tracy Island. Her last entry was about being asked out by Gordon. It was obvious she was under the impression it was a date when she wrote it. Kayo couldn't decide who she felt more sorry for in having to see it in print like that: Gordon or Virgil.

"She'll probably delete that when she gets a chance," Kayo remarked, trying to break the awkward tension.

"Miss Kayo, do you see what I see?" Detective Jim asked. "There, down in the left corner."

Kayo blinked hard. "I see it. Brains, is that what I think it is?"

By the look on Brains' face, he had also seen what Detective Jim was talking about. "Yes! This is the b-break we've been looking f-for!"

"What is it, Kayo?" Scott asked.

"This file is currently open in another location. Someone sneaked into a back door on our server and whoever did it is accessing this file as we speak."

"Can we track it?" Virgil stood, his face hopeful for the first time in hours.

"We can absolutely t-track it!" Brains declared. In another five seconds, they had coordinates locked in and a blinking dot on a map of the Pacific Ocean.

"Under water or surface?" Gordon asked hopefully. John ran a scan from  _Thunderbird 5_.

"Surface," John said. Gordon scowled.

"I'm going in," Kayo said.

"You'll need backup," Detective Jim said.

"I'm going too then," Virgil said.

Detective Jim shook his head. "I meant  _law enforcement_  backup. You don't know what you'll find. At the very least, it's a hostage situation. This is not the kind of rescue you're trained for."

"Fine," Kayo said. "Send the GDF or come on out yourself." She cut the comms channel so only John was still connected.

"You know you're going to beat them there," Scott said, laying his hand atop her shoulder.

"Of course. It's not far from here and  _Thunderbird Shadow_  is faster than just about anything they have. Are you going to tell me to wait?"

Scott shook his head. "No, but I  _am_  going to tell you to be careful. For your sake  _and_  for Maria's. He's right; we're not trained for hostage situations, but you  _are_  trained for sneaking up on bad guys. Keep in touch. We're here if you need us."

Virgil had been standing for a while, but now he looked lost. He had to know  _Thunderbird 2_  would be too slow and not have anything to offer in the way of backup for the situation.

Kayo looked Virgil in the eyes. "I'll let you know as soon as I know anything. We're getting her back."

He nodded, but Kayo knew how much he hated being told to stand by and wait. Kayo took her gear-up seat in the lounge. As it started to descend, she declared, " _Thunderbirds_ are go."


	20. Chapter 20

When The Alchemist returned from his laughing fit, he was dressed differently. Maria still couldn't see clearly without her glasses and it was even harder to focus with drugs impairing her function, but from what she could make out, he was wearing a yellow biohazard suit. She heard the distinctive hum of positive pressure fans which meant the suit was P4, the highest level possible. Integrated gloves set a small silver object on the table right next to her. Squinting didn't help her to discern whether it was an egg, ball, or bullet shape, but she felt like it was one of those.

The Alchemist backed away. "Time to go," he said, but it was muffled by the protective hood surrounding his head. He laughed some more as he got further and further away. Maria heard a metallic creak and some squeaky rumbles and then a soft whoosh like the breaking of a pressurised seal. Heli-blades approached, getting louder for a few seconds, then hovering. The whole room rocked and swayed. The heli-blades revved and then slowly faded into nothing.

She was alone. Still tied to the chair and still connected to the I.V. However, she doubted the drugs were still dripping because her thinking was starting to clear and the pain was making a comeback.

A high-pitched sound reminding her of a mosquito flying around her ear came from the direction of the table, but she couldn't tell if it was the silver ball or an actual mosquito. She couldn't use her hands to bat anything away, so if it was a mosquito, it was going to get an easy meal. The high-pitched sound was followed by a faint hiss and the odor of ozone. It only lasted a few seconds and then it was gone.

Slowly, her brain function started to return and with it, the pain. So. Much. Pain. Yet even in the midst of physical pain, her emotional pain was multiplying by the second. She'd told that bastard everything. Everything he wanted to know and even things he didn't ask. She'd blabbed about things that were merely her stupid opinions and speculation. The Alchemist didn't care about Gordon being a slob or John playing handball with Ridley. Why did she tell him that?

With the return of reason and analysis, she finally started to put clues together. The order-giving unctuous guy, who she finally deduced must have been The Hood, had said 'get our  _agents_ in place' and The Alchemist had said everyone would die. He wouldn't have put on a P4 biohazard suit for nothing. Therefore, that silver object had to have released some sort of infectious agent. That ozone smell was likely ebola or smallpox or who-knew-what horrific biological weapon. That was how she was going to do his bidding and kill everyone. She was the vector for some terrible disease. _I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds_...

She knew it was already too late for her. Her only obsessive thought and driving purpose was how to prevent anyone else from going down with her. The Alchemist had said International Rescue would find her. She was certain he was right. They  _never_  failed. They'd find her and rescue her, and that would be the death of them all. Could she stop this?

Her mind flew in a frantic whir, trying to come up with strategies to mitigate the impending doom. If only she could get her hands free, she might be able to accomplish something. So she tried harder than ever to wrench her wrists free of the ropes which held her tight to the chair. More pain and a new bit of red blur suggested she had drawn blood. While she didn't care about losing blood at a time like this, she recognised her blood was probably contagious and therefore not a substance whose spillage she should encourage. She abandoned her efforts to free herself from the ropes. It didn't appear to be helping anyway.

Her throat started to bother her to the point she could perceive its pain along with the other tortured parts of her body. It was parched and scratchy. Maybe she should have accepted The Alchemist's water when she had the chance. Was this irritated burning from simple dehydration or was she developing symptoms of the infection? Could it possibly happen that fast?

She knew The Alchemist was gone and it was therefore safe to sleep, but she wanted to stay awake in case she could warn her rescuers to stay away. More swaying and bobbing of the room gave her clues to conclude she was in a submersible that was no longer submerged, but riding on swells. Furthermore, the faint cawing of seabirds gave her reason to suspect The Alchemist had left his escape hatch open.

She drifted in and out of consciousness, trying not to sleep too deeply lest she miss her chance at warning. This wasn't hard because pain kept waking her whether she wanted it to or not. She'd decided to yell at the first sign anyone was at the hatch, if she could get her parched vocal cords to do their job and make enough sound. This prospect was becoming harder and harder to imagine as her throat continued its descent into desiccation.

At last, there was a loud bang of metal on metal. Was it a magnetic grapple shot from one of the _Thunderbirds_? No way to know.

"Hello?" she screamed. It came out as a raspy, voiceless cough, barely even recognisable as a word. She tried to get her mouth to make some saliva, swallowed quickly, and tried again. "Whoever is out there, do NOT come in!"

"Maria?" It was Kayo's voice.

"Kayo! It's a trap. Stay away! Tell Brains: biohazard level 4. Make sure he gets that number: LEVEL FOUR!"

Maria heard Kayo relay the message, talk to Brains a minute, then there was some rummaging and scuffling. The sub bobbed quite a bit as it shifted from Kayo's movements on top. What was Kayo  _doing?_

"Is The Alchemist there?" Kayo finally asked. Maria found this question a little late. If he had been there, Maria would have warned her much sooner.

"No, he left a while ago in something with heli-blades. But he contaminated this whole submersible. Something really bad. Like smallpox or ebola-level bad. I'm already infected. There's nothing you can do for me. Just tow this sub out to the middle of the ocean and sink it!"

The next sounds were distinct: a velcro rip and then a long plasticised zipper being zipped. "You know there's no way I'm doing that." Her voice was now muffled but sounded closer. She was coming in, damn her International Rescue selflessness.

"Kayo, you HAVE to stay out of here!"

"Relax. I had a biosafety suit in  _Shadow'_ s ready-kit. Brains says it's level 4, so you can stop worrying." She was in the doorway now. Before Maria could make enough saliva to reply, her bad eyes could make out the shiny blue biohazard suit completely covering Kayo's uniform and head. Then she heard the positive pressure fan. Kayo was safe.

Maria heaved a great sigh of relief. Kayo crouched and shined a light on her.

Then Kayo gasped and hit her comms which she had strapped to the outside of her biohazard suit's sleeve-glove combo. " _Thunderbird Shadow_  to Tracy Island. The Alchemist got away, but we need  _Thunderbird 1_  here immediately." She started working on freeing Maria's hands from the ropes.

"On my way," Scott's holo-image said.

"Is Virgil insisting on coming with you?" Kayo asked.

Scott chuckled. "You have any wild horses capable of preventing him? It's okay. We have plenty of biohazard suits."

"Good, but the biohazard isn't the only concern." Kayo couldn't bring herself to explain, so she projected Maria's face, arm, and bloody wrists to let everyone else see what she was seeing.

There were gasps in the background, but Scott remained cool and detached. "Launching  _Thunderbird 1_  now. ETA five minutes."

Kayo used a soft, caring voice as she freed Maria's hands and then moved on to the ropes at her ankles. "It's okay. We'll get you to hospital."

Maria was overcome with relief that she wasn't going to be the cause of everyone's death. It was also nice to be free of the ropes. She used her left hand to remove the I.V. needle from the back of her right hand. "I can't go to just any hospital. They don't have the facilities to deal with level four biohazards." There were only two places in the world that stored smallpox. She didn't know that's what she had been exposed to, but anyplace safe enough for smallpox should be able to handle whatever The Alchemist used to infect her. "It has to be the CDC in Atlanta or the Vektor Institute in Russia."

"You get that, Tracy Island?" Kayo said.

Brains' voice came back: "I concur. V-Vektor is closest to your location. I'll brief them so they'll be ready for you."

Maria took a moment to relish in the fact that Brains had concurred with her. Any other time, that would have made her whole day. "Do you have any water? Not in a container you care about. If I touch it, it'll need to be destroyed."

"Hold on. I'll go get some from  _Thunderbird Shadow_."

No more than twenty seconds later, she returned with a bottle and handed it to Maria. She unscrewed the lid and downed the entire contents.

Kayo looked around the submarine's interior while they waited. She found The Alchemist's tablet and held it up. "This is how we found you. He hacked our servers and got into your journal files. I'm sorry that I steered you wrong on that server being safe, but at least it enabled us to track him and find you."

Understanding finally dawned. "That explains how he knew when I was lying." He tortured her for information he already knew and then drugged her to get even more. And she fell for his ploy, thinking her secrecy mattered, when he was literally just playing for his own amusement until he could infect her with the virus. No wonder he laughed so hard.

"There's a silver sphere or something on that table over there," Maria said, pointing. She didn't have the strength to get it herself. "That's what the virus was in. Aerosol, I think. It made a hissing noise when it went off."

"Good," Kayo said, moving to pick it up with the bulky glove attached to her suit. "That means I'll have something to give Detective Jim if he ever gets here."

"Did someone tell him about the Level 4?"

"Yeah,  _Thunderbird 5_  put out the word the second you told me. This whole sector is under quarantine now."

 _I finally did something right_ , Maria mused to herself. No one else would die.

Kayo put the silver thing in a heavy zip-seal bag she got out of the pocket of her biosafety suit. She continued looking over the room a while, eventually finding something that looked like a memory chip, muttering to herself. "Hmm, what have we here?"

She slipped it into a slot on her wrist communicator. Maria's image popped up along with The Hood's voice. Kayo whispered, "He recorded the whole thing."

Maria really hoped The Alchemist stopped recording before the truth serum part. Surely only the torture part had to be entertaining enough to a sick psycho to want to film and save it, right?

"You know that chip and your scanner will have to be decontaminated," Maria said with the air of it being a friendly reminder. With any luck, decontamination spray would fry the chip.

Kayo looked at her device. "Hmm. I didn't think of that." She pressed a button. "Uploading data to Tracy Island now."

_Maria, you idiot._

After a few seconds, Kayo removed the chip and added it to the bag with the silver sphere thing she said she was giving to some detective. Peachy, now there were two copies of something Maria didn't want to exist at all.

There was a blast of wind outside and the sub rocked gently. " _Thunderbird 1_  must be here," Kayo said. "Can you get out by yourself, or should we get Virgil down to carry you?"

Maria wanted to see Virgil very badly, but she really didn't want him to see her like this. She was still in her diveskin and it was dirty, torn, and blood-stained. Her hair was a complete and utter mess, and she now had cuts, bruises, and burns to add to her regular list of body flaws. She didn't want to add the indignity of needing to be carried on top of all that. "I can walk." Other than being numb from lack of circulation, her legs were the least damaged body part she had at the moment.

She stood slowly and took Kayo's arm for support. It was not unlike the way she usually helped Sally. Did Sally get this dizzy and unstable every time she stood? Maria tried not to think about her boss and leaving her in the lurch. All this time she'd been worried about Sally dying and leaving her jobless and now she was dying to leave Sally to have to find another home health aide.

At the hatch, Maria looked up to see the blurry outlines of two blue biohazard suits waiting for her topside. Without her glasses and the big bulky suits obscuring their faces, she couldn't even tell Virgil apart from Scott, and that was one mistake she really didn't want to make. Hopefully, Virgil would give her a clue.

She made it slowly up the ladder.  _Why am I so freaking weak?_  As soon as her shoulders cleared the hatch, strong hands reached under her armpits and lifted her the rest of the way out of the opening. Her rescuer pulled her into a hug, then wrapped his arms around her.  _Definitely not Scott_. Maria squeezed him with every gramme of strength she had left, which wasn't much. The heavy plastic suit crinkled loudly. She couldn't prevent the tears that sprang forth unbidden.

"You're going to be okay," Virgil said soothingly. His voice was different through the suit's plastic hood, but still recognisable.

"Let's get her into the rescue capsule," Scott's muffled voice said.

Virgil picked her up, one arm under her knees and the other supporting her shoulders. Maria hadn't been picked up by anyone since she was seven. It was much cosier than she'd expected, and not at all undignified. She regretted having told Kayo she could walk because this was heavenly.

 _Thunderbird 1_  was hovering in midair because the little submersible was too small for anyone to land on it. There was barely enough room for four people to stand on the top of it. Maria wondered where Kayo had parked. Maybe she used optical camouflage and _Shadow_ was invisible, or maybe it was hovering in plain sight behind Maria and she was just too weak to turn her head and look.

The capsule dropped down out of _Thunderbird 1_ on a cable. Virgil set her inside and pulled the safety harness over her head. Then the cylindrical doors slid shut and sealed. The capsule rose off the deck of the sub like an elevator, and into _Thunderbird 1_.

Maria wished she had her glasses to look around inside. Virgil clicked the capsule into place somehow so she was staring up at the curved interior wall of  _Thunderbird 1_. After he strapped himself in, she found Virgil was close enough to rest his gloved hand on the glass just below her face. She pressed her own palm to the inside, mirroring his.  _So close and yet so far_.

 _Thunderbird 1_  took off slowly at first, but it was obvious when Scott engaged the ramjets. Too bad all Maria could see was the inside wall. Finally safe, her first thoughts were regret she had mentioned Vektor Institute. What had possessed her to include Russia in the options of where to take her? Surely the CDC couldn't be that much further, no matter where they were right now. That puny sub couldn't have made it far from Tracy Island, so they had to still be in the south Pacific. It couldn't have been more than twenty minutes difference in  _Thunderbird 1_ to go to the US instead.

She didn't really fancy dying in Atlanta either, but at least they spoke a form of English there. She could make out a southern American accent a lot better than Russian. If memory served (and she didn't trust her brain right now) Vektor was in Siberia. Frozen tundra. Yet, she had told them with her own big, stupid mouth to take her there.

What could she remember of the Russian she had learned for three-year-old Ivan? Hello. Good morning. Goodbye. Please. Thank you. "I speak a little Russian, not very well." She could also remember "Do you need to go potty?" but somehow that didn't seem likely to be a phrase she would need to say as a patient. Maybe they would ask _her_ that? At least she knew "da" and "nyet" if they did.

Worry about communication vied for attention with her pain, but both lost to the overwhelming need for rest. Sleep engulfed her and pulled her deep into its embrace.


	21. Chapter 21

Scott helped Virgil unload the rescue capsule at Vektor Institute. Dozens of shiny red P4 biohazard suits ran around, barking orders in Russian at each other. Brains must have filled them in on what was happening because no one asked Scott or Virgil anything. Even with all the movement around her, Maria didn't wake up during the transfer. The vitals scanner said she was still alive, so that was something.

When they got the capsule to a stark white biocontainment room, the red-clad Russians used hand gestures and guttural expressions to shoo the blue-suited International Rescue personnel away. Upon leaving the biocontainment room, they were doused with some kind of decontamination spray and then they exited through a sort of airlock. In the hall, they unzipped their hoods and freed their heads from the plastic.

"You go on home," Virgil said. "I'm staying. She has no other next-of-kin." It was obvious Scott had no chance in talking him out of it, but it was also obvious that he shouldn't try. Virgil would not be able to concentrate on anything else right now. Didn't he once say that people had limits? Well, Virgil was past his limit and it was time he got some support.

Scott laid a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I'll stay with you."

Virgil shook his head. "It's just going to be a lot of waiting. Nothing either of us can do."

"So I'll tell John to put me back on call. I can scramble  _Thunderbird 1_  from here just as easily as anywhere else."

"I don't feel like I could do any good out there right now," Virgil said. His voice had notes of sadness, frustration, and fatigue in it. He was over the limit in just about every category.

"Which is why  _you're_  on leave. If anyone needs  _Thunderbird 2_ , Alan can take it." It was unlikely that  _Thunderbird 2_  and  _3_  would both be needed at the same time. If that happened, they'd have to improvise, but this was a good plan for now.

Virgil nodded numbly.

Scott's comms beeped and Kayo's image hovered in front on him. She was back in her casual clothes at home. "Scott, you really should see this," she said.

"What have we got?" He started mentally preparing to take on a new mission even though he had not yet told John he was available.

"The Alchemist recorded his interrogation of Maria. I uploaded a copy of the file before I handed the memory chip off to Detective Jim. It's not easy to watch, but you should, when you get a chance."

"I want to see it," Virgil interjected.

"Maybe you should wait, Virgil. It's pretty bad," she warned.

"No. I want to see what he did to her. Scott will be here to make sure I don't go off the rails."

Scott regarded his brother.  _Usually,_ _ **you're**_ _the one holding_ _ **me**_ _back from going off the rails. I guess it's about time I returned the favour_. "Okay, we watch together. But if I have to leave on a mission, you wait for me. Deal?"

"Deal," Virgil agreed.

Scott returned attention to his comms. "Kayo,  _Thunderbird 1_  is on call from here. Alan can take  _Thunderbird 2_ , if necessary. Virgil is on leave until further notice. Update  _Thunderbird 5_ , would you?"

"F.A.B." Kayo winked out.

Scott and Virgil found what appeared to be the waiting area. Hard to tell with all the signs in Cyrillic script. They could have tried scanning and asking John for translation, but Scott decided they'd just sit there until someone made them leave. The room and halls were empty, not to mention, anyone milling about wouldn't be too likely to speak English.

Scott started the recording, which holo-projected about 25 centimetres in front of them. They both gasped to hear The Hood's voice at the beginning. It was, however, the first time they had heard the screechy voice of The Alchemist. He was fond of threatening by text message and leaving those jet black and lime-green calling cards with his victims, but they'd never had a voice sample before. That was probably why Kayo had decided this was important, to gather intel on The Alchemist. Both brothers winced when Maria was backhanded in the face. Scott found himself grinding his teeth despite trying to stay objective and strong for his brother. Neither of them handled watching the electrocution incidents any better.

The branding iron on the forearm made Virgil stand up, stomp away, clenching his fists, and then come back, breathing hard. "It's not happening now. We already rescued her," he reminded himself firmly under his breath.

Scott patted him on the back. He was taking this as well as could be expected. He restarted the playback when Virgil sat down.

"I don't hate her guts," Scott declared in opposition to her statement on the recording.

Virgil explained with infinite patience, "You realise everything she's saying is a lie, right? She didn't know he had her journal. Have you ever seen me eat porridge and raisins? She's making things up, trying to throw him off."

The next thing recorded-Maria said was that Scott liked Grandma's cookies. Virgil chuckled and said, "See?" until he saw the hot poker sear her arm for saying it.

Scott cringed and looked away. "Why didn't she just tell him? It's not like he asked about the  _Thunderbirds_. Our favourite foods aren't worth this."

Virgil sighed and continued with an inflection Scott recognised as his 'about-to-lose-patience-with-you' voice. "Aren't they? International Rescue is more than just  _Thunderbirds_ , Scott. Grandma once told me that it's not the  _gear_  that rescues people; it's the  _Tracy_. We told Maria that The Alchemist is a serial killer with a penchant for poisoning. So she's enduring torture rather than help him poison  _us_. And even after you've been pretty rude to her, she's enduring electrocution and burns to protect even  _you_."

That's when it finally hit him. The recording moved on, but Scott got lost in his own contemplation. All this time, he'd never believed any home health aide was needed and he'd kept pushing the spy threat idea just to win the argument with Grandma. No, he didn't hate Maria, but he had barely tolerated her, shown her minimum courtesy, and kept wishing she'd just give up and go away. But according to Kayo's hidden security cams, she'd been faithfully taking care of Grandma, working tirelessly cooking and cleaning, and even trying to understand enough advanced physics to talk to Brains. She asked about favourite foods to try do something nice for people, and then endured torture to protect what should have been inconsequential answers. If Scott was really honest with himself, it had been really nice to have a clean house, clean clothes, and good home-cooked food waiting when he dragged himself up from the hangar, exhausted and starving. Yet he had never once said a word of thanks.

Scott was jarred out of his rumination when the recording showed The Alchemist forcing an I.V. needle into the back of Maria's hand. The villain had to change his position relative to the recording device and therefore appeared on the video himself, which was another piece of the puzzle they didn't have before. Now they had a face to go with the voice.

The drug-induced part of the recording was almost harder to watch than the torture. The singing was terrible, but probably a coping mechanism, like when Brains recited trigonometry facts or fractal tables when he was nervous. When she couldn't control her tongue, she still said kind and decent things about everyone, comparing Kayo to Wonder Woman, and even saying he, Scott, was noble and brave, even as she admitted she was afraid to talk to him. The only bad thing she mentioned was Gordon being lazy with his trash and everyone knew that.

"See, I told you," Virgil whispered. "She knew you didn't hate her guts."

"I owe her a big apology," Scott said solemnly as the recording ended.

"Yeah, you do."

"And that blessing you asked for? If you still want it, it's yours. I should have trusted you... and Grandma."

"I  _do_  want it. I know it will mean a lot to her too."  _If she makes it_. The unspoken idea hung in the air, unvoiced by either of them but tangible nonetheless.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Scott scrounged up his cheery joke voice and asked, "Well, when you dump her for being boring, can I have a go? I plan to win her over with my cute dimples." He grinned because it was a joke, not even thinking that it was ostentatiously displaying said dimples.

Virgil smirked. "First, not going to dump her—ever. Second, you try exploiting your cute dimples on her and you'll have to contend with my Greek-god-like deltoids pounding those dimples flat. Get your own girlfriend."


	22. Chapter 22

Virgil was glad to have Scott's company while it lasted. He would never have wished anything so horrible on anyone, much less Maria, but after watching that sickening recording, his big brother finally came around, which was a huge weight lifted. Furthermore, Scott was being extraordinarily understanding about giving him leave from International Rescue. Virgil loved his work, but he was also human, not some unfeeling robot. He couldn't be out there when he couldn't keep his head in the game and right now, he couldn't think about anything other than Maria.

 _Thunderbird 1_  got called away, but Scott left Virgil's biohazard suit with him in case they would let him go into the biocontainment room. Virgil had no idea who he should ask to be allowed to see her, nor did anyone ever walk by to inquire what he was doing loitering around their wait area.

This institute seemed more like a research facility than a hospital and it appeared that talking to a patient's family was very low on the priority list. The longer he was there, the more he became convinced that Maria was the only patient they had at the present, and he suspected they were treating her more like a specimen to be studied than a person. Of course, it was only speculation brought on by being kept in the dark too long. He couldn't see what was going on in that white room and even if he could have heard, their language was all gibberish to him.

Finally, after what seemed days, but was probably merely hours, a woman in a red biohazard suit with the hood down walked up to him. She said what sounded like, "Tea Virgil?" He really didn't care about tea at the moment, but "tea" could have a different meaning in Russian. His name was pretty obvious even through her thick accent. He hit the comms button on his sash. "Virgil to  _Thunderbird 5._  I'm going to need EOS for Russian translation."

"You got it, Virgil," John said. "Standing by."

Virgil looked back at the woman, hoping she would repeat herself. When she didn't, he said, "She said what sounds like 'tea Virgil?'."

"Are you Virgil?" EOS's voice translated.

Virgil nodded vigorously at the woman who looked amused at all his fumbling with the translation. He said, "Yes—er—da. Da."

The next phrase was too long to repeat without mangling it, but his comms picked up her voice, so EOS could translate directly. EOS said, "Come with me."

Virgil hopped to his feet. His biohazard suit rested on the chair Scott had vacated. "EOS, ask her if I should put my biosafety gear on."

He picked up the suit to show her what he meant while EOS asked the question in Russian.

"Nyet," she said, shaking her head.

"No," EOS translated.

"Yeah, I got that one," Virgil muttered.

The woman spoke another long phrase in Russian. EOS translated, "We are going to the observation deck. It is safe without suits."

Virgil draped the suit over his arm and carried it with him. He still hoped he could get someone to let him see her. The red-suited woman led him up some stairs into a room that was like a glass-sealed theatre balcony overlooking the white room where Maria lay either asleep or comatose, but apparently breathing without artificial help. Her left forearm and both wrists had been bandaged. Her face was heavily bruised and a butterfly dressing had been applied near her right cheekbone. At least a dozen shiny red biosafety suits were milling around Maria's bed, looking at bioscan readouts and having discussions. He could hear them talking as if there were microphones down below leading to speakers in the balcony, but it was all in Russian. The multiple conversations overlapped too much for a chance at getting translated over comms.

Another string of Russian from the woman in front of him led to EOS's translation: "We are keeping her sedated because this virus is completely unknown. We think it was bioengineered with CRISPR." Virgil nodded without completely understanding, hoping John was recording what she said to relay it to Brains.

Getting the information was slow because of the language barrier, but it was better than being left clueless and ignored. The Russian woman was patient with the process, speaking small bits at a time and then pausing for EOS. "Her body's defenses will be better than any medicine, since we have no idea what the virus will do. Her immune system will be stronger if she stays sedated."

"For how long?" Virgil asked and EOS translated.

The woman shook her head. "We do not know. As long as it takes to be rid of the virus. Her other wounds are not very bad."

Virgil wanted to argue with that statement, but it was simply too hard to do it through language barriers and translators. The burns, rope abrasions, and bruises might be minor in a comparative medical sense, but they were absolutely 'very bad' in his mind because they had been purposely inflicted by a sadistic madman for no reason but to cause her pain.

Something on his face must have communicated his sentiments because she amended herself. It was translated to: "I mean the wounds will heal quickly and not require a large expenditure of immunological reserves. She will need a strong immune system to fight this virus. That is of most concern right now."

"Can I see her?"

She pointed down through the window. EOS translated: "You see her. We will save bedside visit until she is no longer sedated, yes?"

"Da," Virgil said. "Thank you," from Virgil was translated to "spah-si-bah". He repeated EOS's translation himself, both to express it personally and to try to learn the word.

She nodded and turned to go.

"Wait! What is your name?" Virgil asked and EOS translated.

"Doktor Olga Petrova."

"Virgil Tracy. Pleased to meet you." He was thankful she had given him information and led him here, where at least he could see Maria.

Petrova nodded and walked out. She didn't seem to care that he stayed behind, alone.

Virgil decided to call Grandma with the update, which he knew wasn't much new information, but he would have wanted her to call if their positions had been reversed.

"They're keeping her sedated and I can't be with her until they decide to let her wake up," he said with a little more frustration in his voice than he intended.

Brains popped in next to Grandma, "Virgil, I have b-been in conference with the virologists at the CDC. Atlanta will be sending some of their t-top doctors to Russia, along with a translator. Scott will be t-transporting them in _Thunderbird 1_  as soon as he finishes his p-present mission."

"That's good news, Brains," Virgil said.

Grandma spoke next. "Virgil, why don't you come home with Scott after he drops off the doctors? Maria would want you to come eat that pulled pork she made and get some sleep."

"The t-team leader from the CDC, Dr. Harrison, has p-promised to keep us updated," Brains added. "Scott will give him one of our c-communicators so we can keep in touch."

"I'll decide after I talk to this doctor myself. If he can assure me it really won't matter, I'll come home with Scott."

"F.A.B." Grandma said before closing the connection.

Virgil was able to see when the American team arrived because their biohazard suits were yellow, contrasting vividly with the Russians' red ones. He also heard English and saw a translator working busily with all the researchers to exchange information. Virgil left the observation deck to look for Scott, whom he found back in the waiting room.

Scott said, "Dr. Harrison said he'll come find us after he confers with the Russian team. How are you holding up?"

Virgil gestured to Scott to come with him back to the observation balcony. He answered as they walked. "Tired. Worried. Wish I knew more." The observation deck was still deserted, but the room below was now crowded with both yellow and red biohazard suits. "I wish I could go down there and hold her hand. I just don't want her to think she's all alone, that we left her to die with all these strangers."

"She knows you came to her rescue, Virgil. Also, I talked to Dr. Harrison a little bit on the way here. He's optimistic that she's going to recover. The Alchemist wasn't expecting her to realise she'd been infected at all, much less know where to get the best treatment. She was supposed to go back to Tracy Island, infect us all, and none of us would figure it out until too late. That didn't happen. Look at all those specialists down there from all over the world. Nobody is leaving anybody to die."

"You really think so?"

"I know so." Scott followed up with a brotherly pat on the back. They sat in the observation deck, which had a couple of rows of theatre-type seats. Virgil was content to wait in silence for Dr. Harrison, but Scott was not the quiet type. After only a few seconds, he cleared his throat lightly. "So, she admitted to being in love with you under truth serum. What do you think about that?"

Virgil smiled despite not wanting to show any sign of cheerfulness under the grim circumstances. "Well, if I can convince her that I don't see her as some tentative distraction that I'm going to discard when I get bored, or some convenient scapegoat to blame for Grandma's declining health, then I think our chances are pretty good."

"Chances for...?"

 _Love. Marriage. Kids. The whole shebang._  He didn't voice any of his hopes. It hadn't even been 24 hours since Scott gave him a hard time for merely kissing her. Virgil was glad to have him on his side now, but he was still a little wary.

Scott didn't give up. "If I gave  _you_  truth serum right now, what would you be saying about how  _you_  feel?"

Virgil smirked. "I'd say that I think I should tell  _her_  how I feel before I tell my big brother."

"Aw, come on. You could practice on me."

"Yeah. Don't think so."

Thankfully, their discussion was cut short by someone in a yellow biosafety suit rapping on the inside of the open door. "Scott? Am I interrupting?"

Scott stood. Virgil followed his lead.

"Dr. Harrison, this is my brother, Virgil Tracy," Scott said. "Virgil, Dr. Harrison."

They exchanged a handshake. "Pleased to meet you," Virgil said. "How is Maria?"

"The Russians have been taking good care of her, watching her vitals and giving her body the support it will need, keeping up her blood pressure and electrolytes. She does have a fever, but it's only 38.4 Celsius, and that's a good general defence against viral infections, so we're not treating it unless it gets higher. The virus hasn't really had time to fully incubate yet and we have no idea what to expect when it does. The good news is this Alchemist person doesn't seem to have the background necessary to design a virus that is both highly contagious and highly lethal. It's not really that easy, regardless of his bragging. Knowledge and skill with chemical poisons doesn't really transfer to CRISPR technology and genetic engineering."

"That's somewhat comforting," Virgil said.

"So we're going to keep her sedated and hope her immune system can create antibodies to kill the virus. Because transmission was aerosol, we are concerned that there will be respiratory complications. If she develops congestion, we will discontinue the sedative so she can sit up and cough to clear her lungs. I'm told if you go home, you can get here in under an hour?"

Virgil and Scott both nodded. Even  _Thunderbird 2_  could get from Tracy Island to Russia in under an hour.

Dr. Harrison held up an International Rescue communicator disc but directed his next words to Virgil. "I promised Mr. Hackenbacker that I would call you with updates. That includes any future plans to take her off sedatives. Dr. Petrova and I agree that you  _should_  be here if we do that. She's been saying your name in her sleep."

"She's been asking for me?" Virgil was a little miffed that Dr. Petrova hadn't told him this or that the mics hadn't picked it up.

"More like dreaming about you," Dr. Harrison said in a calm, reassuring tone. "You're obviously important to her."

"We're the only family she has," Scott told him. 

Virgil did a double-take.  _Scott said 'we' and 'family' about Maria? Maybe we should make sure_ **he** _doesn't have a fever._

The doctor continued, "There's really no reason you need to be here right now. In fact, it's counter-productive. Go home and sleep. If she does start coughing, it's probably going to be a marathon and you'll need to be well-rested for it."

"I don't think I  _can_  sleep right now," Virgil said.

The doctor patted his elbow. "Find a way. She's going to need your strength eventually, coughing or not."

"All right, you've convinced me. I'll go home."

"Good man," Scott said, heaving what was probably a sigh of relief.


	23. Chapter 23

Virgil reluctantly left the Vektor Institute and went home with Scott. He ate and slept in a dazed human version of auto-pilot. He'd been home less than ten hours when John's holo-image popped into his dark bedroom. "Virgil, can I talk to you?" His voice was a lot less urgent than his _Thunderbird 5_ call-to-action voice. It was more like in-person, sounding like a brother rather than a dispatcher.

Virgil sat up, squinting while his eyes adjusted. "What's up, John?"

"We've got a rescue that's going to need the power exo-suit. Alan's willing to take it, but—"

"But the exo-suit is built for me and will never fit his skinny little frame." Piloting _Thunderbird 2_ was one thing, but if muscle was needed, Alan was poorly suited to be his substitute. "Tell Alan to go back to bed. I'll take it."

"Are you _sure_? Scott said you're on leave and I think Grandma Tracy will kill me for even talking to you right now."

Virgil's feet hit the floor and he stood. "Yeah, well, emergencies don't take a break. I got some sleep and Brains has Dr. Harrison on electronic tether, so no use sitting around and wallowing in worry. May as well do what I can. You can tell Scott and Grandma I volunteered."

"F.A.B."

The rescue turned out to be a difficult one, but Virgil found that concentrating on someone else's problems let him forget his own for a little while. When he had time to think again, his concerns felt a little more manageable than when he brooded about them continuously. He hated being helpless, but there was nothing he could do for Maria right now. Helping someone else made the sting of that reality a little less sharp. He went back on duty with the understanding that his status would change when Maria's did.

About four days after they'd rescued her from that lunatic's submarine of horrors, Dr. Harrison called Brains over the IR comms channel. "Miss Anderson is developing lung congestion, as we feared. She's coughing a little under the sedation, but we need to wake her up so she can clear her lungs better. Can Virgil get back here today?"

Virgil had heard Dr. Harrison's voice from the kitchen, and he ran up the stairs with Scott on his heels. "Hey, doc," Virgil said, panting lightly as he arrived in the lounge. "I can be there in thirty minutes."

"Twenty," Scott amended, clapping him on the back. "I'll drop you off in _Thunderbird 1_."

Dropping off meant _Thunderbird 2_ would still be available for rescues, so Virgil didn't argue. Furthermore, being a passenger meant he didn't have to suit up in his uniform. He could wear his comfortable flannel and jeans. Of course, he still had to take his biohazard gear if he intended to actually get into that white room. He turned to thank his brother, but Scott was already heading for the lamp sconces that triggered his own gear-up.

Dr. Harrison chuckled. "You weren't kidding about getting here fast. I'll meet you in the observation deck when you arrive."

"F.A.B." Virgil said.

"Call me when you can, Virgil," Grandma requested as he took off toward the hangar.

"I will," he promised. It was a good thing she'd mentioned it or he wouldn't have thought to grab a portable comms unit. He was so used to having that convenient button on his sash. It felt very strange to be running to the hangar in his civvies and not shooting backwards down his gear-up chute, but it was a good strange. Biohazard suit and portable comms in hand, he rode the robotic lift up to _Thunderbird 1_ 's auxiliary hatch just as Scott was travelling overhead to the pilot's seat.

John called en route with a situation for Scott, which meant Scott wouldn't be able to go inside when they got to Vektor.

"You want me to strap on a parachute and jump out?" Virgil asked. Not really his favourite way to deplane, but he'd do it to save a life.

Scott shook his head. "Negative. I'm not sure the Russians would take kindly to an unidentified paratrooper dropping in on the facility where they store dangerous biohazards that could be weaponised. By the time we got someone to confirm they wouldn't shoot you down for target practice, I could just land and shove you out. They're expecting _Thunderbird 1_."

Virgil chuckled. "Glad to know you've got my best interests at heart."

"When Maria wakes up, you tell her that we're all pulling for her and I'll apologise when she's feeling better. I don't want her to think I'm only doing it because I think she's not going to make it."

"I'll tell her."

"She _is_ going to make it, Virgil. Remember that."

"F.A.B."

Scott hovered low just long enough for Virgil to jump out. _Thunderbird 1_ was gone before Virgil made it to the front door.

Dr. Harrison was waiting in the observation room. He had his yellow biosafety suit unzipped partway and the hood trailing on his back. "Good, you brought your own suit. You'll stick out like a sore thumb because you'll be the only one in blue, but that's an advantage. You need help getting it on?"

"No. I got it." Virgil took this as his cue to start suiting up. They weren't going to wait around or chat about it and that was a relief.

"I should warn you, she may be confused or irrational until the medication has time to wear off." Harrison pulled his own hood over his head and started zipping up.

After seeing Maria react under a madman's truth serum, Virgil was reasonably certain he could handle a little confusion or irrationality. "What about pain? There's no way those burns are healed under those bandages and her face still looks swollen even from here."

"She won't be completely pain-free, but we'll do what we can to minimise it."

Dr. Harrison led him to the white room and then sent him in first, following behind. Virgil made his way to Maria's bed and after a brief tactical analysis of which hand seemed least likely to hurt and which side of the bed had less equipment, made a beeline for her left side and took her hand. Even through the thick glove of his biosafety suit he could feel how cold her skin was. His brain took a header into the prospect of death, but her eyelids fluttered and Virgil banished the notion fast.

"Maria?" he ventured softly.

She coughed twice and then croaked, "Are you my guardian angel?"

"No, just the boyfriend with the voice of an angel. It's Virgil, honey." How did that endearment slip out? He hadn't really planned it and it sounded odd to his ears. Odd, but not wrong.

"Virgil?" She opened her eyes but the way she squinted and scrunched her brows it was apparent she couldn't focus.

"Can you see me?"

She coughed too hard to speak, but shook her head. "Glasses," was the only clue she could manage to get in between coughs.

"I'll ask someone to bring them next time I call Tracy Island. But don't worry. I'll be your eyes for now."

Her coughs quieted a little while he talked, so Virgil tried to keep talking. "Okay, CDC people are in yellow. You can see colours, right? They all speak English. The Russian-speakers wear red. The translator has a big white stripe on his suit. Can you see that?" The translator stood close, his "stripe" being a huge label in English and Cyrillic. The English said "TRANSLATOR" so he could only assume the Cyrillic was the Russian equivalent.

She directed her gaze at the translator and croaked out some sounds that got badly distorted in her dry, cough-mangled throat.

Virgil was just about to ask her to try again, when the translator hacked the same coughing sounds back, just as badly mangled. "Zdrast-ve-tcha."

Virgil blinked at the translator, then turned back to Maria. "You speak _Russian?_ "

She belted out a long string of Russian-sounding gibberish, followed by a coughing fit. The Russians all laughed and clapped their gloved hands. The translator helped the CDC people by translating: _"I speak a little Russian, not very well."_

Virgil squeezed her hand. "How could you ever think I'd find you boring?"

Cough, cough, cough. "Past experience." Cough.

Virgil had more to say on that score, but he didn't want to try to have a relationship conversation in front of all these people. She shouldn't be talking anyway. One of the red-suits handed her a glass of water with a bent straw in it.

"Spah-si-bah," she said before downing it in huge gulps. Virgil remembered learning the word for thanks from EOS.

Dr. Harrison spoke next. "I'm Dr. Harrison, head of the CDC team." He placed a hand on a red-suited shoulder. "This is Dr. Petrova, the head of Vektor Institute. Mr. Hackenbacker told us you've been to medical school, so we're going to give it to you straight. Just tell us if we go over your head."

Cough, cough. "Hackenbacker?"

"Brains," Virgil muttered quickly.

There followed a medical rundown of the virus, complete with phrases like "icosahedron capsid" which Harrison rattled off as he holo-projected an electron microscopy image for her to see. Too bad she didn't have her glasses and probably only saw a blur.

Then Maria asked about her T-lymphocyte levels and got some random numbers as response. Virgil was starting to feel like he needed a translator for the medical-speak.

"You've been sedated for four days, but we woke you up to clear your lungs." Dr. Harrison handed her a small box of folded paper towels. "If you cough up anything, do us a favour and use these instead of swallowing it, would you? We need to analyse your mucus."

Maria nodded at the doctor as she took the box, but she immediately turned to Virgil, shock on her features. "Four days?" Cough, cough. "Who's taking care of Sally?"

"Gordon's on duty right now and we have backups in place if he gets a call. She told me to tell you that you are not to worry about losing your job. It's secure."

Cough. Cough. "That's very sweet, but she should " Cough. Cough. "...start looking for my replacement."

Virgil got a little stern with her. "Don't you dare believe that sadistic Alchemist. He's a liar. And he's full of himself. You're _not_ going to die."

"That's right," Dr. Harrison added. "There's no evidence he's even tested this virus before and he picked the absolute worst possible candidate for his trial run. You kept his planned 'epidemic' isolated to just you and you got treatment even before incubation occurred. Besides, he's not very good with CRISPR. He didn't even give his little beastie a lipid envelope."

"No lipid...? I'm not dying?"

"No," Virgil said forcefully. He knew he might be wrong, but he didn't care if it was stretching the truth. She needed positive affirmation, not doubts or even possibilities. "You're definitely _not_ dying. Even Scott is pulling for you. He included himself when he said **_we_** are the only family you've got. He came around after he saw what The Alchemist did to you. He gave us his blessing."

That did it. The tears started. And the crying exacerbated the coughing. She started hacking so hard, she pulled on Virgil's hand to lift herself to sitting, grabbed a paper towel out of the box, and coughed into it. When she removed it from her mouth, it was bright red.

"Don't be alarmed," Dr. Harrison said. "Just a little haemorrhagic fever. It's closer to puumala than ebola, and we're keeping a close eye on your renal function. You're doing fine in that regard." He also took a hint from her improvised position to hit the button that raised the bed's back so she could sit up more comfortably.

She sucked up her tears and blew her nose on the bloodied paper towel, then handed it off to a red-suited person whose gloved hand appeared in front of her, eager to accept it. Egad, what kind of job was that, to have to collect bloody, snotty trash? _It's a nurse's job_ , he realised. _And Maria does similar things all the time._

"Virgil," cough, cough, "if I'm not dying, why..." cough, "are you here?" Cough, cough, cough.

He used his free hand to brush a stray hair from her forehead, wishing he could take the bulky gloves off and have skin-to-skin contact. "Because sometimes a rescue doesn't end with a hand off to a hospital. You're my mission and I don't quit 'til a mission is complete."

She smiled so widely it made her wince. She toned her smile down enough so it wouldn't hurt but she didn't stop smiling.

 _Yes! I want to see that smile._ "That's my girl."

The first day awake was rough. Maria coughed so much that Virgil started to worry about how much blood was coming up. A red-suited woman pushed a reclining chair-bed into the room and set it up next to Maria's bed for him. Virgil remembered to thank her in Russian. However, sleep didn't really happen because the coughing was both loud and unsettling.

The doctors and nurses all took shifts, going home or to their hotels to eat and sleep and get out of the bulky plastic suits. Virgil only left the biocontainment room to use the restroom and grab a quick sandwich in the cafeteria. He would have eaten by her bedside, but eating was impossible in a biohazard suit. A hurried meal was his only way to recharge because he couldn't sleep with her hacking up her lungs. He called Grandma Tracy with a quick update, asking for her glasses as well as giving information, before returning to the white room.

The second day, they urged her to get out of bed and walk around the biocontainment room, which was full of equipment, but they cleared a path around the perimeter for her to navigate. She was so weak that Virgil had to face her and hold both her hands while walking backwards. A yellow-suited person walked behind her, pushing the I.V. stand and some other scanning equipment she was hooked up to. They stopped approximately eighteen times for coughing so hard that Maria doubled over, but they finally made it around the room. All the medical people cheered for her like she'd just run a marathon.

Virgil led her back to the bed, but she hesitated. Her eyes asked a question long before she could form the words. But since staring into her eyes was captivating in itself, he didn't mind waiting. He finally encouraged her with a soft, "What?"

"Would it..." cough, "be okay if..." cough, cough, "I sat with you?"

"Of course."

It was not the romantic lap-sit he had dreamed of. She was tethered by I.V. tubing, a catheter bag, and numerous bioscan monitor wires. He was covered in heavy duty nylon-reinforced plastic from head to toe. He sat in the recliner and laid a bedsheet over his suit so she wouldn't get all sweaty and sticky from contact with plastic. She had a hospital gown on that left much of her skin bare. She lowered herself gingerly onto his knee and then edged in sideways like she was trying to fit in the tiny space between his leg and the arm of the chair. Although it caused him a little guilt for manipulating it, he reached under her side and pulled her out of the narrow crack, which couldn't possibly be comfortable, reclined the chair, and laid her to rest fully on his body. She didn't resist.

The position could have been a huge turn-on, and it was to some degree, but the heat of her fever, the crackling of the plastic with every movement, and her constant coughing dialed it down considerably. Not to mention, he was hermetically sealed against even a simple caress or a kiss. However, the look of contented bliss on her bruise-ravaged face was totally worth it. She rested her ear on his shoulder to take pressure off her black and blue cheek and promptly fell asleep. He fell asleep as well and with a break in the coughing, they both got a little rest before her body-rattling hacking roused him.

She whispered a raspy, "I'm sorry," on his waking.

"I'm not. Best sleep I've had since our date." Had it been less than a week ago? It felt like months now.

As soon as the medical people realised she was awake again, they wanted blood samples, scans, and instrument readings from her, but when they suggested she move back to her hospital bed, she shook her head.

Virgil motioned to the medical people to just meet her where she was. She did cooperate a little by turning from lying on her stomach to lying on her back, just using Virgil as her mattress. Virgil then raised the recliner back so they were both sitting, her comfortably on his lap. After all the analytical samples and readings were taken, a young female in red told Maria through the translator that she needed to change her bandages and dressings.

It had been impossible to make out on the torture recording, but with the bandages off, Virgil could now see that the burns The Alchemist had inflicted on her forearm were not random. That psychopath had branded her with three distinct hexagon rings, just like his logo. Virgil couldn't stop staring at the inflamed and blistered flesh.

"Is it bad?" Maria asked under her breath. She still couldn't see without her glasses.

He couldn't bring himself to say how bad it looked. "Um, how much do you like honeycomb?"

"Hexagons?" she guessed.

"Yeah."

"Benzene freak." Cough, cough.

The wounds on her wrists looked even worse, in Virgil's opinion, probably from the black thread they'd used to stitch the deepest cuts, but the abrasions were unstitched and very nasty-looking as well. The nurse applied some kind of ointment which caused Maria to grab Virgil's hand and squeeze it hard. She made some grunting sounds, but she didn't scream or cry. Although she'd been too nauseated to eat up to this point, they started encouraging her to drink clear liquids. After everything had been cleaned and re-bandaged, they stopped pestering her and she settled back into the crook of his elbow to fight the coughing again.

Apart from the fact Maria's fever made her feel like a giant heating pad, he liked having her that close and felt badly when he had to ask her to let him up so he could go to the men's room. He lifted her back into bed and pressed his gloved hand to the clear plastic visor of his hood and mimed a kiss, then touched her forehead with his fake-blessed glove. "I won't be long," he promised.

After the decontamination process, he headed straight for the restroom, but the minute he opened the door to the non-biohazard area, he found Grandma Tracy and two blue biosafety suits standing in the hall. A quick peek through the clear plastic told him it was Gordon and Alan in the suits. "Grandma?"

She handed him Maria's glasses. "How is she doing?"

He sighed. "Coughing up a lot of blood, but Dr. Harrison said they aren't very concerned about it. She has a fever, nausea, some body aches, and pain from her wounds, but she's doing all right, considering."

"I'm not putting one of those spacesuits on to go in there, but you tell her I came and give her my love, would you?"

"Sure, Grandma."

"Now, I'm going back to that observation room to watch the show."

"The what?"

She nodded at Gordon and Alan. "Your brothers wanted to do something to cheer her up."

"You gotta help us, Virgil," Alan said.

"Help you?"

Gordon spoke next. "She likes that funky oldies music, right? So we found something on her tablet that we can sing for her."

"But you don't sing."

"We're going to lip-synch the backup part. You need to do the main part."

He gave them both an incredulous look, shaking his head. Lip-synching in biohazard suits in a Virology Research Center?

"Come on, it's for Maria," Alan prodded. "She likes this stuff and we'll be terrible, so she'll get a laugh."

Virgil found this ironic after they had laughed at her singing and dancing, but maybe that was part of the point. They would make fun of themselves so she would see it was okay for her to play her music at home—openly and without fear of ridicule. Still, he wasn't so sure he should get involved in this little scheme of theirs.

Gordon handed Maria's tablet to Virgil with the song they had chosen cued up. The lyrics they wanted him to sing were so perfect he couldn't resist. "Okay, I'm in. Let me hit the men's room first."


	24. Chapter 24

Maria vacillated between complete faith in what Dr. Harrison had said about the virus being only a shadow of its promised potency and her gut feeling that he was outright lying to her. After all, that's what doctors  _did_. She'd have called Harrison a liar to his face already if it weren't for the fact Virgil agreed with him and calling  _him_  a liar was simply not in her capacity. She was now hopelessly in love with him even though she was still afraid he'd dump her once she was 'out of the woods' medically. She couldn't help it. All those little voices in her head could whisper that she was headed for a train wreck, but she was enjoying the view far too much to get off the train. Where it would end up was irrelevant, even if it was a ball of fire.

She did feel guilty for using her sickened state to sleep so close to him. To be fair, she'd tried to sit  _next_  to him;  _he_  was the one who moved her limp body to lie on his chest. It also wasn't her fault that the coughing lessened and sleep came far more readily in that position than over in the cold, hard bed. She truly tried just as hard not to cough when she wasn't close to him, it just didn't work. Still, she didn't want him to neglect eating, using the restroom, and getting some fresh air that wasn't triple filtered and sterilised to the point of staleness. He usually only left for fifteen minutes at a time, but she would have accepted an hour or two as reasonable had he ever decided to take it.

She could always tell when he returned even though she couldn't really recognise anyone without her glasses. Virgil was the only one who wore a blue biosafety suit. Yet through the haze of another coughing fit, she caught sight of not one but  _three_  blue suits. If any of the doctors and nurses were trading their red or yellow for blue, her chances of recognition were going to be shot.

Virgil had to navigate through a field of equipment, but eventually he was close enough for her to make out his fuzzy features behind the plastic hood visor. He held something out to her. At first she thought it was food and her stomach gave a queasy roll at the mere thought. Then she saw the black rims and excitedly accepted her glasses. Since they couldn't have got here by themselves, she realised the other two blue-suits had to be International Rescue pilots and not doctors changing colours just to mess with her. Once she had the glasses on, she could see it was Gordon and Alan.

"Thank you," she rasped between coughs.

"Grandma came too," Virgil said. "She's watching from up there." He pointed toward the high mirrored wall.

Now that someone had given her reason to look and the means to focus, she could see the room had a large glass-sealed observation deck which was probably only mirrored on this side. She'd watched surgeries that way before. Maria waved and mouthed "Thank you," to the mirror. It was very smart of Sally to stay away from the biocontainment room. Even with a suit, there was still some risk and someone with Truflun's shouldn't take that risk.

"We came to cheer you up," said Alan.

Virgil chuckled. "Yeah, probably not the height of entertainment, but it's the thought that counts, right? Think of it as comedy if the music is too much of a stretch." He encompassed the room full of medical people as he announced, "International Rescue presents, the 'Blue Dweebs'."

He hit a button on a tablet computer. Alan and Gordon began bobbing up and down as they attempted to sing the ooga-chaka backup vocals to Blue Swede's "Hooked on a Feeling". There wasn't a lot of space, but they seemed to have practiced some moves that looked more like gorillas in heat than choreography. It was indeed comical to watch with them in the plastic suits. When it came time for real words, Virgil took centre stage in front of them and stared straight into Maria's soul to sing as if he'd written this song just for her. With her vision finally clear, she couldn't shake the notion that he truly meant what he was singing. His voice was muffled somewhat by the biohazard hood, but he sang loudly enough that she couldn't hear the lead singer on the recording, only Virgil.

Although she tried, she couldn't make it all the way through the song without coughing. However, she was able to applaud enthusiastically when the number was over. The medical people in the room all clapped and cheered as well, even the Russians, who probably didn't understand the song, but must have got a kick out of the dance moves. No matter what their opinion, it was at least a break in the monotony, and that was something to celebrate. Virgil took his seat next to her bed while Gordon and Alan bowed repeatedly to the 'audience'. Virgil handed Maria the tablet which she now could see was hers.

Gordon and Alan came a little closer when they were done taking bows, but maintained a distance, like they were afraid of catching the virus if they got any closer. Maria could hardly blame them. She smiled. "That was" cough, cough, "wonderful. What do you" cough "do for an encore?"

The look on both their faces was priceless. Alan spoke up in a sheepish voice, "Uh, we're a one-hit wonder. That's all we got. Did it cheer you up?"

"Of course. Thank you for" cough, cough "coming and bringing my glasses."

"You're welcome," they chorused.

"Maria, when you come back to Tracy Island," Gordon started nervously, "would you teach me and Alan about sharks?" Alan nodded his inclusion in the question.

"You know I was just a preschool teacher, right? I'm not a real shark expert."

"Do you realise you just got through two whole sentences without coughing?" Virgil observed. "Honestly, preschool is about the right level for these two."

"Hey!" Alan protested.

Maria paid Virgil a smirk. She turned to the two blond Tracys. "I'd be happy to teach you about sharks."

They exchanged a plastic-gloved fist bump over this news, one saying "Awesome" and one saying "Yes" but she wasn't sure who said what.

"When will they let you come home?" Alan asked.

"When she can talk to other people without them having to wear biohazard suits," Virgil answered for her. Maria commenced a deep coughing into a paper towel. She didn't show them the blood, but Virgil added, "and stop coughing up her lungs," to his release criteria.

Gordon stepped a little closer and then pulled something out of his biohazard suit pocket. It was her puka shell necklace, or rather, a shorter version of it. She held out her hand to accept it. Gordon cringed lightly. "I'm sorry we couldn't find all the pieces, but Brains fixed it the best he could with what we found."

"I didn't think," cough cough, "I'd ever see it again." Cough. "Thank you for finding it!" Cough, cough. "Please tell Brains" cough, cough, cough, "thank you from me as well." She went into another deep coughing fit and expelled more blood.

Virgil gave her the side eye and then looked at his brothers. "All right, you two, she's talking too much and it makes her cough more. Chat time's over."

Alan and Gordon nodded.

Just then, their comms beeped and John's voice said, " _Thunderbird 5_  to  _Thunderbird 2,_ come in."

Virgil reached for his shoulder and found only biohazard plastic over plaid flannel.

Alan hit his sash button through his plastic suit and answered, " _Thunderbird 2_  reading you, what's up,  _Thunderbird 5_?"

Maria watched Virgil as he pretended he hadn't just attempted to press a non-existent comms button. She leaned in to get as close to his ear as she could and whispered, "If they need you, I'll be okay here." She managed not to cough until she finished speaking and then buried her mouth in paper towel so she wouldn't be hacking in his ear.

He shook his head and whispered back. "I don't even have a uniform with me."

Gordon piped up. "You have a spare in  _Thunderbird 2_."

Alan had been listening to John, but he had also noticed Virgil's little lapse and paused in answering John to see if Virgil was going to step in and take over the mission.

Virgil turned toward Maria. "You don't need me?"

She took his gloved hand in hers. "Virgil, I will always need you," cough, cough, "but I'm not in," cough, "mortal danger right now." cough, cough, "If someone else  _is_ , then they need you more." Cough, cough.

Alan grinned at Virgil. "We got this one, bro. Piece of cake."

Virgil sighed but Maria couldn't tell if it was relief or disappointment. "F.A.B."

Gordon and Alan hurried out.

A couple minutes after they left, Virgil's portable comms beeped from his pocket; he shifted in his chair to remove it and pulled it out. Sally's holo-image popped up. "Virgil, I'm waiting here while Alan and Gordon go out on their mission. When you get a chance, would you come see me a minute?"

"Of course, Grandma. You're in the observation deck, right?"

"Yes." Her holo-image waved sideways and said, "Maria, I won't keep him long. You get better, dear."

"Thank you, Sally," Maria said in the direction of the comms device and then pulled away quickly to do her coughing.

Virgil stood and came to her bedside, pulled up her covers, and did that cute kiss transfer thing, which was somewhat ridiculous with him in the bulky biohazard suit, but also utterly sweet and romantic. She blew a kiss of her own in return. He smiled and left the room.

* * *

Sally waited for Virgil impatiently. She had so much to say and not sure how much of it she actually  _should_. Virgil arrived with his hood unzipped and his head exposed, but still wearing the biosafety suit below the neck. She stood and gave him a crinkly hug. "How are you doing, kid?"

He shrugged. "Okay, I guess. Not sure I'm doing any good here."

Sally frowned and shook her head.  _Just as I suspected_. "Is it because she told you it was okay for you to take that mission?"

He heaved a defeated sigh. "I wanted her to know how special she is to me, how important. When I told her that she was my mission right now, she seemed really happy. I thought she got the message, but now I wonder if maybe she didn't. Maybe I should go back to work."

"Virgil, sit down." He obeyed. Sally sat in the theatre seat next to him. She sandwiched a plastic-gloved hand in her own bare ones. She inhaled deeply and started, "Do you remember reading 'The Gift of the Magi' by O. Henry in school? Do you recall the story?"

Virgil nodded.

"When Maria told you it was okay for you to take another mission, she wasn't belittling or rejecting the fancy jeweled comb you gave her, she was chopping off her own precious hair to try to give  _you_  a gift. You rescued her. She rescued you back. That's how love works."

He sat in silence, thinking it over.

"We got here a while before we met you in the hall. We came up here and I saw you with her. When she rests in your arms, she feels safe and her coughing eases. When you're gone, it's worse. See?" She canted her head in the direction of the glass where they could see a heavy coughing fit happening as they spoke. "It's not that she doesn't need you or want you here. It's that she's willing to sacrifice her needs  _for you_. She's showing you that your job is not a barrier. It's who you are. She embraces it and supports it. And by extension, that means she embraces and supports  _you_."

He looked back at Sally, his eyes intent. "Grandma, how do I 'sell the watch' so she can understand I won't dump her like she's so afraid I will?"

Sally smiled warmly. "Do you love her, Virgil?"

He didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Have you told  _her_  that?"

"I...uh...no. It's too soon, isn't it?"

"She didn't choose to tell you so soon either, but you know, don't you? You got to see her admit it while she was drugged with truth serum. So not only did she say it, but you know she was incapable of lying when she did. You just sang about being high on believing that she's in love with you—and don't you dare say that was just a random song. I heard the sincerity in your voice and she was close enough to see it in your eyes. But it's still all about her. She's out on a limb some torturing madman forced her climb on, but even though it's scary out there, she's not retreating. She's holding fast. And here you are, keeping  _your_  feelings to yourself. Why  _wouldn't_  she be worried you might dump her?"

"I—I never thought of it that way."

"She's done the hardest part by going first. You already know she's not going to reject you, so why not just tell her what's in your heart?"

"You're right." He stood. "Do you need anything before I go back?"

"Help me down the stairs?" Gordon and Alan wouldn't remember that she needed help and it was annoying to have to remind them. If she was in the waiting area when they got back, she could go meet them without delay or difficulty. Besides, if Virgil was about to do what she thought he was, he shouldn't have his grandma watching while he did it. Bad enough he had to do it with nurses and technicians in the room.

He took her down to the waiting room, taking her cue for pace, which was decidedly slower these days.

"Thanks for the pep-talk, Grandma," he said when she was settled in a chair.

She smiled. "Anytime, kid. Just remember, you're not on vacation here. That plastic zoot-suit is International Rescue Blue and you're here to save a life. You're allowed to enjoy it, but never forget it  ** _is_**  a rescue."

"F.A.B." Virgil waved goodbye and then purposefully rezipped his biosafety suit and secured the hood before taking off down the hall.


	25. Chapter 25

Virgil entered the biocontainment room, dodging equipment and plastic-covered scientists as he made his way to Maria's bed. She was lying on her side, her face turned away, coughing. He placed his hand on her exposed shoulder. She startled. His gloves were probably cold against her fevered skin. She turned and her eyes behind the glasses lit up with recognition. She managed a controlled smile, taking care lest she disturb her bruised cheeks too much.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said gently. "Do you want to come warm me up or are you comfortable there?"

She sat up immediately. He grabbed the sheet he used to prevent skin-to-plastic contact, parked himself in the recliner next to the hospital bed, and then threw the sheet over himself to cover from neck to toe. Maria sat in his lap and leaned over to rest her side in the crook of his arm, which he wrapped around her back protectively. When she coughed, he could feel the gut-wrenching strain of her muscles.

"I think we overdid it with you talking for a while," he whispered. He used his free hand to smooth a few errant strands of hair out of her face. "So I'm going to talk for a bit and you don't have to say anything, okay? There will be time for talking when you're better."

She drew a deep breath and nodded against his chest, her coughing already becoming more shallow and less frequent.

"I love you, Maria."

She obviously didn't care that he'd just told her she didn't need to talk. She croaked back, "I love you too, Virgil." cough, cough.

"Shhhh," he whispered. "Then I'm a very lucky guy. I should have said it sooner, but I didn't want you to think it was just some empty platitude that I didn't think long and hard about. It's not some whim that I'm going to get over.  _You_ 're not some whim I'm going to get over." He decided to reveal just how long he'd been attracted to her, but it took a little bit of explanation. "You should know that everyone back on Tracy Island knows about your singing now—"

She started to move like she was going to sit up, possibly object. He hugged her to discourage movement. "Shhh. Be still. It's okay. Last month, no one could have paid or blackmailed Gordon and Alan enough to become the Blue Dweebs and do what they did just a little while ago. If they could do that here, then you can sing and dance whenever you want at home. You don't have to hide. I'm telling you now because I also have to confess that I've been spying on you for quite a while, way before anyone else knew—well, everyone except Kayo. Security is her job, so she keeps an eye on  _everything_.

"Anyway, you know how Captain VonTrapp fell in love with Fraulein Maria when she sat on a pine cone at the dinner table?" She would surely understand his  _Sound of Music_  reference without any explanation. "Well, I loved you from the first time I saw you dancing in the kitchen, singing some silly song about tacos raining from the sky. It was such a pure expression of joy. I can't get enough of that look on your face when you smile, so I watched you every chance I got."

He heard her sniffle and wished the plastic suit was gone so he could feel the warm tears against his skin like he did that night in the moonlight. "Shhh. Don't cry, honey."

Cough. "It's happy tears," she assured him. Cough, cough, sniffle.

"I'm glad it's happy, but we need to stop that coughing for a while and maybe get some sleep." He reclined the chair to its fullest and gently guided her down with him. Once there, he released her so she could find what was comfortable for her, apart from his need to have her close. She nuzzled in under his chin and sighed dreamily. He chose to ignore the copious medical tethers attached to her, his suit's crinkling plastic, and its annoying barrier between them and concentrated on instead on her closeness.  _Just like precision gears_.

He enclosed her in his arms. Slowly, her coughing calmed and they both drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Maria worked very hard at getting well, although it wasn't easy. She knew once she was better that Virgil would have to go back to work, and that was both blessing and curse. She loved having him so close and she would miss him terribly, but she also felt massively guilty to be monopolising his time and talents. That was apart from the guilt she felt in leaving Sally without a nurse. She knew objectively that being sick was not her fault, but it sometimes felt like she was letting people down by not just snapping out of it. One thing was for damn sure: she wasn't going to let that bastard Alchemist win. She finally had a boyfriend who loved her and she was going to live and revel in that.

When her coughing downgraded from life-threatening to merely persistent, Scott asked if he could visit. Virgil had told her he was planning to apologise, but she was still a little afraid of talking to him. What if she said something new to set him off? How awful would it be to finally have been vindicated from espionage only to give him another reason to distrust or dislike her?

Maria got back into the hospital bed, raised the back so she could sit up, and made sure she was well-covered with blankets. She'd stopped worrying about what Virgil might see with her in that nasty clinical gown, but that didn't extend to anyone else. When the blue biosafety suit arrived in the room, Virgil greeted his brother and then promptly excused himself. She couldn't deny him a sorely needed break, but she was nervous about being mostly alone with Scott. Russian med techs didn't really count.

Scott wandered through the labyrinth of medical equipment to get right next to the bed. He didn't try to keep a distance like Alan and Gordon had. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I've been better," cough, "but thanks for asking."

"I came to apologise. I haven't been very welcoming to you and I'm sorry. You didn't have to protect us under torture, but you did, and as far as I'm concerned, that makes you family."

"And I'm sorry for everything," cough, "I said while I was drugged."

He shook his head. "You didn't have a choice. No harm done."

"But I told him about  _Thunderbird Shadow_ ," cough, "having optical camouflage."

"You didn't tell him how it worked or how to detect it. Knowing we have stealth technology doesn't really help The Alchemist or The Hood. If anything, it will make them paranoid, thinking Kayo is flying around watching them when she's not. The Hood probably knew already anyway."

Maria felt bad about mentioning his dimples too, but bringing it up again felt like it would just make it worse. If he didn't say anything, it was best forgotten.

Scott continued, "I want you to know that I really appreciate all the things you do for us. I don't think I ever understood how much you were needed until I had 'Grandma-duty' yesterday," he rolled his eyes, which Maria barely caught behind the plastic visor of his biohazard suit, "and I didn't even cook dinner. Oh, by the way, my favourite food is that homemade French bread you make with spaghetti."

"You probably shouldn't tell me that, Scott." Cough. "I was actually trustworthy before, when you didn't trust me," cough, "but now,  _I_  don't even trust me anymore."

"What? Why not?"

"The Alchemist used a lot of," cough, "psychoactive pharmaceuticals on me, and that's just the ones he admitted." Cough. "It's possible he foisted mind control on me that I don't know about." Cough.

"Nope, not possible."

She blinked. Was he not aware of what all those drugs did? Was he just overly optimistic? How could he trust her now, when she had been compromised so thoroughly she didn't even trust herself?

"Brains checked the recording he made of your interrogation. There's no time unaccounted for and no stops or splices. We saw everything he did and said from the moment he drugged you until Kayo stopped the recording device. He never had the opportunity to try hypnotic suggestions or any other kind of mind control." He grinned. "But just to be sure, we're having Virgil keep an extra keen eye on you."

She smiled as much as she could without major pain. "Thank you for giving him your blessing." Cough. "He's so happy about that."

"Speaking of blessing," he cleared his throat, "we ran through a bunch of security footage when we were trying to figure out how to find you, and we all saw how you clean the comms projectors in our picture frames." He shot her an embarrassed cringe. "I hope you can stop praying I will be less of a jerk to you now."

Maria shook her head. "I never prayed for that, Scott." Cough. "I pray for your  _safety_."

"So why did you take so long in front of my picture compared to the others?"

"From what little I've seen, you're  _too_  brave for my comfort level, so I worry about your safety more than the others. Plus, I usually ask for extra wisdom for you because you have the burden of leadership." Cough, cough.

"Uh, wow. That's...that's..."

"If it makes you uncomfortable, I'll stop."

"No, that's okay. I can think of a few times divine intervention probably happened and I wouldn't be here if it hadn't. It just makes me feel worse that I was so wrong about you."

She chuckled. "I can understand why The Hood and The Alchemist make you so paranoid. They're not on my 'favourite people list' right now."

"Well, Brains is planning to ask you for help now that he knows your background. Why didn't you ever tell anyone you knew anything about chemistry?"

_You mean, besides the fact it probably would have made you think I was in league with the chemistry-crazed psycho?_  She didn't want to bring up his past distrust again. It was forgiven. "I only have a bachelor's in biochem." cough. "It seems like Brains knows more than I do about everything."

Scott shook his head. "He's a genius, for sure, but he doesn't know _everything_. He's really strong with physics, robotics, and engineering. He knows some chemistry, but it's not his forte. Besides, two heads are always better than one. He's smart enough to accept help when he can get it. International Rescue has always been a team effort. The GDF are supposed to be the ones catching bad guys, but if history is any indication when it comes to The Hood and his associates, the GDF can't do it without our help, and in this case, we can't do it without  _yours_. So are you up for helping us find The Alchemist and keeping him from hurting anyone else?"

"Absolutely! As long as Sally approves, of course." cough "Her needs are my first priority."

"Oh, we wouldn't have it any other way." Scott took a step back from the bed. "I should probably go. You get better soon. You're sorely missed back at Tracy Island."

"Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're unfamiliar with preschoolers and their... uh... unique taste in music, you might not be aware of "Raining Tacos" by Parry Gripp. youtube.com/watch?v=npjF032TDDQ Warning: this song is catchy and may get stuck in your head.


	26. Chapter 26

The next day, Maria finally walked around the room without help. Not without rest breaks and not quickly by any stretch of the imagination, but her strength was returning. She was no longer coughing up blood and Dr. Harrison said the virus counts were on the decline instead of increasing. Evidently, her immune system was doing its job and killing the little buggers.

Sally called Virgil and asked how he was holding up, then she asked Virgil to hand the comms unit to Maria. Her holo-image hovered over the disk-shaped compact. "How are you feeling, dear?"

"I'm doing better, Sally, thanks for asking. Looks like I'm going to make it." She looked away to do her coughing, but at least she could manage several sentences at a time without interruption.

"Of course you are! Just a matter of time now. Tell me the truth now, dear. How would it affect you if International Rescue borrowed Virgil for a little while?"

Maria snuck a look at him and winked, taking a second to recognise that her cheek pain was barely noticeable with the movement. "I suppose if it's only a borrow, I can muddle through on my own. I do want him back in one piece though."

Sally grinned. "I think that can be arranged. Virgil," Maria angled the comms his direction when she heard Sally address him, "Alan and Scott are out in  _Thunderbird 3_  and Gordon's out in  _Thunderbird 4_. Kayo is picking you up in  _Thunderbird 2_. She'll be there in fifteen."

"She's already in the sky?" Virgil asked. Evidently Tracy Island was more than fifteen minutes away.

"Yes. She would go on without you if Maria hadn't given her okay. Are you fit to fly?"

"F.A.B."

"She'll meet you out front by that big beck-top sign. Tracy Island out." Sally's image disappeared and the comms went dark. 'BEKTOP' was the Cyrillic rendering of Vektor, which Maria knew now, but it had taken her a while to figure out after seeing it on the red biosafety suits and some of the equipment.

Virgil stood and took Maria's hand. "This is an experiment. If you have any kind of relapse while I'm gone, then you're going to be stuck with me 24/7 until they let you out of here."

She smiled at him. "You really shouldn't threaten me with rewards, or we'd both be here forever. Go on, go save the world. I'll force down some more borscht and take a nap."

"Finish the whole bowl and I'll sing to you when I get back."

"You're getting the hang of that threat and reward thing now." She eyed the nearly-full bowl of beet soup, her face twisting up with aversion. She reminded herself yet again to avoid medical facilities in Russia after this.

Virgil did his sweet kiss transfer ritual, this time with a whispered, "I love you" which she echoed back to him. He left his portable comms with her and disappeared out the door.

He returned a little over two hours later, looking invigorated. Maria could see the neckline of his uniform under the biosafety suit through the clear plastic visor. "So I'm guessing you dropped Kayo off and not the other way around," Maria said, making sure not to sound disappointed or judgmental about it.

He nodded. " _Thunderbird 2_  is parked outside. I'm on call from here, but only if no one else can handle it."

"Sounds fair to me. I actually thought you'd be longer." She eyed the half-full soup bowl with a disappointed sigh. "I didn't finish the borscht." She'd been forcing down the icky beet taste a little at a time. Had she known she was doomed to lose the challenge, she wouldn't have bothered at all.

"How about a trade then?" He pulled one of the Tracy family's silicone zippy envelopes from his pocket. He placed it in her hand and she felt the warmth inside. It had already been reheated, probably in the cafeteria on his way in. The scent of her own breakfast burrito recipe wafted up to her nose and she felt her taste buds jump for joy in excited anticipation.

"You actually _like_  borscht?" she asked, not hiding her surprise.

"Eh. Can't be any worse than Grandma's 'Meatloaf Surprise'. But I can't really eat in this suit, nor would they let that bowl out of here without decontamination spray and a trip to the autoclave."

"So you brought this just for me?" She unwrapped it and took a large bite, savouring the decidedly un-Russian deliciousness and not hiding how much she enjoyed it.

He nodded. "Last one in the freezer. No one's looking forward to bagels and cold cereal again, but Grandma said everyone will just appreciate your cooking more when you get home."

She swallowed before answering. "I hope you're not letting Sally cook again. It's too much standing for her, even if she says otherwise."

"You get no argument from me. Grandma Tracy, however... you're the only one she listens to when it comes to telling her to take it easy."

"Then I need to get out of here."

"Yes, you do." He sat in his recliner and opened his arms in invitation to join him.

She couldn't resist. She stuffed the last bit of breakfast burrito in her mouth, adjusted the sheet that protected her from direct contact with his plastic suit, and sat on his lap. "It's a good thing you put yourself on call. Maybe I  _would_  try to stay sick to monopolise you."

"No you wouldn't. You were willing to let me go when you were still coughing so hard you were bleeding from your lungs. Besides, coughing isn't the metric they use to decide when you're good to go. It's the viral counts. You can't fake those even if you try."

She sighed contentedly and leaned her head against his chest.

"So, are you up for talking about  _us_  now?"

 _WHAT?_  Wasn't that the code phrase for ending a relationship? Wasn't this what all those voices in her head kept warning:  _once you get better he'll take it all back and dump you_. Panic rushed in and took over before she had a chance to think it through. The EKG monitor beeped a warning alarm about her elevated heart rate. She bolted upright. "Are you breaking up with me?" She braced herself for the inevitable broken heart, wondering how  _ **that**_  would read on an EKG.

"What? No! I thought we were past that. I love you. Why would you even think that?"

She inhaled several deep breaths. The EKG beeps started to slow down and the alarm quieted. "I'm sorry. Bad reflexes. What did you mean 'talking about us' then?"

"I wanted to ask how you felt about children. Like the prospect of us someday having some of our own—hypothetically, of course. No pressure."

Children _of our own?_  That notion gave her a cosy feel that banished the fear of breakup. She laid her head back on his chest. "Really? You want to...? With me?"

"Of course with you! It takes two, you know."

"Well, single parenting is okay for some, but I'm old-fashioned and think that should be the contingency, not Plan A." She'd actually been wanting to revisit this subject ever since Sally said she should have told him before. "So...you want at least seven boys, right?"

"S-seven? Where did you get that...?"

"You and your brothers are named after the Mercury Seven, right? That suggests seven boys were intended."

"Mom died after Alan," Virgil said quietly.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"It's okay. Are you saying you're okay with  _seven kids?_ " He sounded incredulous. Large families were a rarity these days.

"Sweetie, I was a preschool teacher. If I could handle twelve three-year-olds with only one other adult, I think I could handle seven boys staggered in ages."

"But you're no longer a preschool teacher. That might indicate you decided you didn't like kids that much."

"I love kids. I quit teaching because I hated living in the city and preschool teacher salaries are too low. I have too many student loans to pay off."

"That's not going to be a problem any more. Brains made some inquiries around Academia and found several places that want that song you sang to annoy The Alchemist. We couldn't find any record of it anywhere, so we guessed you wrote it. Am I right?"

"You mean the muscle one? The lyrics, yes. The tune is from  _Pirates of Penzance_."

"Gilbert and Sullivan. The Major-General Song."

She nodded. "It was just something I made up to help me pass anatomy."

"And it's brilliant. Stephen Q. Watson will forgive all your student loan debt in return for rights to publish, record, and distribute it."

"No way," she gasped.

"Yes way. There are other offers too. You can look at them all when you get home."

That ridiculous song was actually worth  _all_  her outstanding debt? She probably never would have sung it ever again if not for being completely stoned on truth serum. The stunning revelation was almost worth the branded hexagons, bruised cheeks, and rope abrasions. It took her a few seconds to remember where this tangent started.

"Sorry, where were we? Seven boys? For the record, I think we should have some girls too."

Virgil's eyes became as large as saucers. "G-girls are great."

"What did I say? Maybe I shouldn't have assumed you were going to play the 'what would dad do' card again. Let's start over now that we've both given each other heart attacks. How many children do  _you_  want, Virgil?"

"How did we go from me having to remind you that I wasn't breaking up to us having dozens of kids?"

" _Dozens?_  I'm twenty-seven. I'm not sure I have enough fertile years left for that."

He laughed. "But you're perfectly  _willing_  to have that many? And you're not worried about my job being dangerous and the possibility you'd have to raise them without me?"

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried, but I know you're careful. And I wouldn't do what my mother did and blame our children if you die. Plus, our children would have four uncles to take over as positive male influences if you're absent. That's something I never had. If you really want dozens of kids, I'm game. Just...can we do home birth or a hospital where they all speak English, please?"

He laughed and hugged her tight. "F.A.B."

* * *

Two days later, Virgil had just returned from a mission and was sitting in his recliner when a yellow suit and red suit entered the room and approached Maria's bed together. As they got closer, she could see it was Dr. Harrison and Dr. Petrova. It did not bode well for the two head doctors to be coming to see her at the same time.  _Did my last counts go up and they're here to tell me I'm taking a turn for the worse?_

Dr. Harrison turned to Dr. Petrova and nodded, then they both unzipped their hoods simultaneously. "Good news," Dr. Harrison said. "You're virus free." The rest of the nurses and techs followed their example. Everyone in the room unzipped their hoods and showed their faces.

When Virgil saw all the hoods off and realised what it meant, he hopped to his feet, unzipped his own hood, and with a short "Excuse me" to the doctors, pulled Maria into his embrace and kissed her until they both had to gasp for air. The room erupted in laughter and applause.

Dr. Petrova appeared to have only come for the ceremonial gesture, because she turned to go. Maria called, "Spah-si-bah, Dr. Petrova!" in her best Russian accent to the retreating red biohazard suit.

The doctor turned and said you're welcome, which was the same word for "please" and one Maria had practiced with the nurses quite a bit. The rest of the people in the room went back to what they were doing, leaving their hoods off.

Dr. Harrison adopted a serious tone and addressed both Virgil and Maria. "It's extremely important that you understand something. Bubonic Plague has a mere 50% mortality rate without antibiotics, yet it killed Fifty. Million. People. They called it the Black Death for a good reason. Just because  _you_  beat this engineered virus, does not mean we should discount the possibility it is incredibly dangerous. It could be capable of killing 95% of the people it infects and you just happened to be in the 5% with the right natural immunity to survive."

It occurred to Maria that this was nearly the exact opposite of what he'd said before when he was trying to convince her the virus wasn't that bad and The Alchemist was unskilled with CRISPR, yada, yada, yada. Big fat liar. Then again, she'd never really taken  _his_  word for it. Virgil was the one who made her believe. And he didn't try to discount the virus. He just kept reminding her how much she had to lose.

Dr. Harrison continued, "Hopefully, that idiot Alchemist used his entire sample up and that's the end of it. We'll never have to find out how many it could have killed."

Virgil shook his head and matched the doctor's serious tone. "We're not assuming anything that easy."

"You shouldn't. If that psychopath tries to use this again, you must give it the same degree of caution as you did before. It still warrants Level 4 protection, and you need to bring any victims to the CDC in Atlanta or right back here." As obsessed as The Alchemist was, if he did use it again, it was highly likely International Rescue would either be the target themselves or the ones rescuing whoever was.

"Did anyone name it? The virus, I mean," Maria asked.

"Dr. Petrova is considered the discovering researcher, so any naming rights are hers. She designated it Vektor-371 for all our discussions and for the WHO database. If there are more infections, she might give it a more colourful name, but if this is the end of it, she's not going to bother." He started to remove the I.V. from the back of her hand as he talked. "Listen, this was a major workout for your immune system. You can go home, but you're still recovering and need lots of rest."

She nodded, although not quite sure how she was going to take care of Sally and rest at the same time.

"We'll make sure she takes it easy," Virgil assured him.

Maria's diveskin swimsuit did not survive, not that she would have worn it outside in Siberia anyway. Virgil offered to grab something to wear out of  _Thunderbird 2_ , but the Russians brought in a set of red scrubs with BEKTOP embroidered in white satin on the chest pocket. They were too cool not to accept, so she changed from the patient gown into the red scrubs and red canvas slip-in shoes. Her shortened puka shell necklace was like a choker now and showed up even with the scrubs' neckline. She thanked every single person in the room individually, using her limited Russian for the red-suited or English if they wore yellow. The Russians kissed both her cheeks in farewell, being extra gentle with them as the bruises had not completely disappeared yet. The CDC people shook her hand. Virgil thanked some of the nurses and techs as they both made their way to the door.

"Do you want to lie down or sit up?" Virgil asked once they were aboard _Thunderbird 2_.

"Sit up, please." She had slept through the entire flight on  _Thunderbird 1_ , which was sad on several levels, but she could compensate somewhat by watching the view on the way home. She couldn't really say she  _liked_  Russia, but she did want to be able to say she saw at least some of the landscape in the country where she nearly died. Maria took her normal seat in the back.

"Do I look like Parker to you? You can sit up front, you know." He indicated the co-pilot seat with a sweep of his hand.

"Oh. I usually leave that seat for Sally." That was because of her status, but also because the elder Tracy was actually a pilot and therefore belonged in the co-pilot seat much more than Maria did. But seeing how she wouldn't be taking the seat from anyone better qualified right now, Maria moved quietly to the co-pilot seat and buckled in. Getting out of quarantine  _and_  getting a front seat in  _Thunderbird 2_. It was turning out to be a pretty good day.

They were back on Tracy Island in half an hour. They found everyone in the lounge watching Alan and Kayo in  _Thunderbird 3_ , saving Tasmania from a major meteoroid strike. Maria and Virgil missed how they changed its course, but they entered the room just as the meteorite slammed harmlessly into the ocean instead. After the cheers died down, everyone welcomed Maria home. It was a little weird to actually sit in the lounge. Up to now, she'd mostly walked around on the periphery and only came down into the sunken part to help Sally up, deliver a basket of laundry that needed folding, or to clean when no one else was around. Now she was sitting like part of the family, which felt nice, but still foreign and strange.

"I've been w-working on a way for you to swim safely once you're b-back to health," Brains said. He looked excited, like he usually did when he invented something new. "We're g-going to install rotating hazard lights on the pool deck which will be t-triggered when  _Thunderbird 1_  is twenty kilometres out on approach or when Scott pulls d-down on the lamps in here," he indicated the sconces just behind him "so you will have extra w-warning before the pool starts to slide. You'll have time to get out and come back in the house if you want to. We're also g-going to install an oxygen tank with a mask so you can breathe until the exhaust clears, if you'd rather wait it out, or if you miss the warning l-lights."

Maria gave him a polite smile. "Thank you, Brains. That's really thoughtful of you."

Evidently, Virgil knew her well enough now to realise she wasn't exactly thrilled with this solution. He nudged her lightly. "Tell him what you  _really_  think, honey."

"I just..." She sighed. "I don't want to be ungrateful, but if you're going to go to that much trouble, why don't you just fit me with a diving helmet I can wear over my glasses? Have Kayo put a security camera on it if she wants. Then Tracy Island would get daily underwater perimeter patrol and I would get to see marine life. There's an 8-hour scuba certification course held Saturdays in Auckland. I can be qualified in a day." She had always dreamed of scuba diving, but never had the time or money for the equipment.

"Why d-didn't I think of that?" Brains mused.

"What do I look like, chopped liver?" Gordon whined, clearly insulted that he hadn't been considered the obvious scuba instructor. "I can get you certified right here."

Maria tried to be diplomatic. "You're very busy, Gordon. I didn't want to impose."

"I'll get to work on it r-right away," Brains said.

"Doctor said I need to take it easy for a while, Brains. I wasn't planning to swim for at least a week. I don't even have a swimsuit anymore, so you can take your time," Maria said.

Brains' eyes lit up like it was Christmas. "You don't have a suit? L-Leave it to me."

Maria nearly told him he didn't have to go that far, but he looked so excited about it that she didn't want to rain on his parade. She also felt a little guilty that no one else knew how short her time on Tracy Island might be. Sally still hadn't told everyone she was dying. Would the rest of them let Maria stay as simply the cook-housekeeper? Other than Virgil, they might not think her contribution was enough to let her stay. Would they be making this investment in her underwater training and equipment if they had all the facts? Truly though, this was all on Sally. She could tell them. Or she could have advocated for the pool solution, but she didn't. So Maria couldn't do otherwise but to accept this as a gracious gift from her employer.

"Gordon, if you're sure you can find the time, I accept your offer to be my scuba instructor. Thank you."

Kayo's holo-image spoke up. "This is legitimate training activity, Gordon. You can use the time you're normally spending with me for self-defense lessons. I need Maria on underwater patrol more urgently than I need to throw you on the mat some more."

"Hey, I threw  _you_  that one time," Gordon said defensively.

"Three years ago," Alan's holo-image retorted.

"When she had a head cold," Scott put in.

"And  _he_  needed the confidence booster," Kayo said, grinning.

Everyone laughed.


	27. Chapter 27

Virgil, Scott, and Gordon got called out before Alan and Kayo made it home. Brains went down to his lab. Maria moved to sit next to Sally. They were alone in the lounge.

"How are you doing?" Maria asked.

"I'm so glad you're home. I was getting tired of being helpless and needy so the boys could appreciate you when you got back."

"You didn't have to do that! You've all been more than appreciative and generous to me. You probably should have just found a replacement."

"Are you kidding? Not only would Virgil have disowned me, but where was I ever going to find another nurse that would endure torture to protect my family the way you did? It's not like I can even ask that kind of question in an interview."

Maria sighed. "I didn't protect anything. He got everything off my tablet and then I blabbed even more when I was drugged."

Sally patted Maria's hand. "You only put information on your tablet because Kayo told you it was safe. You said nothing wrong, not even when you were drugged. Besides, there's one big secret you  _did_  protect: my Truflun's."

"Only because he didn't ask about it. I'm sure I would have spilled that just like I spilled everything else if he had mentioned anything to get me started." Maria looked around. "But should you be talking about that in here? Isn't this room bugged?"

"It was, but not anymore. I had Kayo take down all the cameras. I'm sorry we had to do that."

"Don't be. It's  _your_  house. You had every right. The only thing I would have done differently if I had known was my silly singing and dancing. But then Virgil might never have fallen in love with me." Maria smiled at the thought.

Sally smiled back. "He told you then."

Maria nodded. "I still can hardly believe it. Maybe this is all a dream and I'm actually in a coma or dead."

Sally scoffed. "If this is your dream, could you imagine me up some more strength? Oh, and I'd like to be ten years younger."

They both shared a chuckle.

Maria continued, "Speaking of Truflun's, you were very smart not to come into the biocontainment room at Vektor."

"Smart? Pshaw! I just didn't want to put on one of those plastic suits." She winked. "They didn't have one in purple."

"The doctor told me to take it easy and Virgil pretty much threatened to take me back to Russia if I didn't follow doctor's orders, so what are your priorities for me?"

"Right now, the bathroom!"

"Oh! Of course." Maria offered her hand. Sally took it and stood with her help. Maria didn't feel unsteady, so everything was good.

"As for priorities," Sally said as the walked toward the restroom, "you getting better and helping  _me_  is number one. I've been exaggerating my weakness with the boys just a little, to show them how hard you work, but it hasn't been much of a stretch. When we ran out of leftovers you had saved, Alan took me shopping and we stocked up on frozen foods that anybody can heat up, so no one has had to cook. That stash should last another three or four days. You can add some of your magic to those as you feel ready. You are absolutely forbidden to clean anything right now. The boys can clean up after themselves and Brains volunteered MAX to take up any other slack."

"What about laundry?" They arrived at the bathroom, where Maria waited outside while Sally did her business.

Sally left the door open a few centimetres and continued the conversation. "I haven't been down there, but I'm sure it's a disaster. Everyone has been pretty busy with you out of commission and Virgil not around."

"I told him he should go home more often once he went back on duty."

"That's not even a hard choice, dear. Stick around here and squabble with his brothers over chores or be with the woman he loves. No contest."

"But he hardly slept or ate at Vektor." Maria lowered her voice to a whisper. "I think if they would have offered him a catheter, he'd have skipped the men's room too."

Sally laughed at this. "You're probably right. He's got it bad." She indicated she was ready to get up, so Maria entered the restroom to help her over to the sink.

"Well, I'm sorry everything is so chaotic. I'll do my best to get things back to normal as soon as possible."

"Don't you dare feel guilty for anything, including the state of our household. No one is blaming you. I'm seconding the doctor's orders. You take it easy or I'll put you on paid vacation."

Collecting pay for doing nothing when Maria hadn't been an employee long enough to earn any kind of vacation felt like cheating. She felt bad enough to have been on medical leave for over a week. "You really know how to hurt a girl," Maria said.

Sally smiled to let her know it was only intended as a protection of her health. "The boys will all tell you what a tyrant I am."

Maria settled Sally back in the lounge, then she took a quick trip to her room to change out of the Vektor red scrubs and back into her own blue ones. She put on her trainers, apron, and wristwatch. Feeling more normal, she returned to the lounge and sat next to Sally.

Maria watched Virgil's mission over comms. It was the first time she had ever seen an entire rescue, start to finish. She felt a pang of jealousy when some knockout gorgeous woman hugged Virgil for saving her life, but it wasn't like Virgil kissed her or sang sweet songs to her or wore a nasty plastic suit for a week just to be with her while she coughed her lungs out. Those he rescued had to watch  _Thunderbird 2_  fly away into the horizon. She, Maria, was the one he came home to.

When Virgil's mission was complete and he was headed back, Maria decided to see what was in the kitchen she could whip up so he and his brothers had half a chance at eating when they got home. She found four frozen pizzas. If she augmented the paltry toppings that they came with, they could feed everyone. She found some Italian sausage in the back of the freezer and set it in the automated kitchen module to defrost. There was some mozzarella cheese in the fridge that hadn't been opened, so she pulled that out and started grating it.

Virgil walked in wearing his plaid shirt and jeans, but looking like he was headed to the shower. She waved with her cheesy hands.

"Are you supposed to be cooking?" His brows were critical even if his tone was neutral.

"Sally said I could add my magic to the frozen food as I felt ready. All I'm doing is browning some extra sausage and grating some cheese for these frozen pizzas. Nothing earth-shattering."

He looked at her and sighed.

"I'm fine, really," she said.

"I know you are. It's just..." He looked dejected, like maybe he had scratched the paint on  _Thunderbird 2_  or something.

"What? What's the matter?"

"You're not the only one with insecurities, you know. I struggle with that too."

Maria couldn't have been more surprised if he said he was an alien from Jupiter. "What could you possibly be insecure about?"

He hesitated. This was hard for him to talk about. "I'm feeling a little second-rate right now. Gordon and Scott were in great form out there today and I kept missing the target. What if one of them were to catch your eye? Everyone knows just how awesome you are now. I'm not good with competition."

She shook her head. "Virgil, you're so sweet to say I'm awesome, but you know you're biased, right? That isn't a criticism; I actually love that about you, but no one else is pining away for me, I guarantee it. I watched your entire mission from upstairs and I couldn't tell you what your brothers were doing because I was too busy watching  _you_. Okay, so you didn't always hit the target on the first shot. Who  _cares!_  Besides, none of your brothers would ever try to steal your girlfriend. They're all gentlemen."

"I'm not so sure. Scott hinted that he could see himself with you."

"What?! Two weeks ago, Scott didn't even want me around! Besides, he gave us his blessing, right? I'm pretty sure that means he accepts us as a couple and he isn't out to break us up."

Virgil didn't say anything but the look on his face said he really was concerned about this. Maybe he wasn't over the fact Maria had accepted what she thought was a date on  _Thunderbird 4_. "Surely you're not still worried about Gordon? He's over the moon for Lady Penelope. I'm not on his radar—or sonar."

"But that could change. He's been stuck on her for years and it hasn't gone anywhere. You saw how fast he volunteered to be your scuba instructor. You're going to be spending all that time with him learning underwater EVA stuff and now he knows that you think he has sexy legs."

She shook her head. "He had his chance and he blew it. He wouldn't get another one with me, even if he wanted it, which I seriously doubt he does." She drew a deep breath and cringed inwardly at what she had to say next. "Yes, I think he has sexy legs. I'm deeply embarrassed that I ever said so out loud, but it only came out of my mouth when I was drugged against my will. Even then, that's the only positive thing I said about Gordon. I had a whole list of seven or eight wonderful things to say about you."

"It's not always about quantity." His voice was almost a mutter under his breath. Apparently, something in his brain was fixated on this and feeding him doubts.

"You're hurt by my word choice? I didn't use 'sexy' when describing _your_  physical features, but I did when describing Gordon's. Is that it?"

Too quickly, he said, "No." He flinched for a split-second, but quashed it. "...well, maybe." He gave her a look that pleaded for reassurance. Virgil was a hands-on, kinaesthetic learner, so words alone weren't going to do it for him. She had to show him in a way he could feel. Did she dare?

"How attached are you to this insecurity? I think I can disabuse you of it in under two minutes. Are you open to that?"

The look in his eyes was doubtful, but also intrigued with her proposal. "Two minutes? You're on." He then regarded her with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh, it's on, all right." She hurried to the sink and washed the cheese residue off her hands with warm water, ensuring her hands would be both clean and warm. After drying them, she grabbed the coconut oil from the counter. "You don't mind the smell of coconut, I hope."

He shrugged, obviously clueless about how that was even relevant.

"Good," she said, taking a small amount and then spreading it over her palm and fingers like hand lotion. She approached him head-on, but stopped at a distance a little short of hugging range. Her voice was now a whisper. "Last chance to back out."

He smiled. "Go ahead. I'm calling your little bluff."

"You asked for it." She wiped her left hand on her apron and then used that clean hand to grab both his red plaid shirt and the white waffle-weave undershirt just below his crossed arms. She pulled gently so that the tails of the undershirt came untucked from his jeans waistband.

His eyes widened and his arms came uncrossed to grasp at his shirt tails. "Hey, no undressing in the kitchen!"

"You can keep your clothes on. I just need to..." Still holding the shirttails with her left hand, she slipped her right hand under the hem of his waffle-weave and pressed her oily bare palm against the skin of his chest. She let her hand glide around over his skin with just enough pressure to lightly massage the muscle underneath. Then she did something she'd never done in her life. She scrounged up a seductive tone and tried it out. "This, my sweet, is a very well-toned muscle, not my favourite, but it will do for our purposes. When I talk about this muscle, I don't use some mundane, crass word like 'sexy'. I use its name," and here she moved sideways and stood on tiptoe to whisper throatily into his ear, "pectoralis major." She returned to her shorter stature and continued in the seductive voice that was slightly louder, "That's Latin, way sexier than English." She punctuated her words with sensual swirls of her fingers over his skin underneath the shirt.

She sneaked a quick glance at his face. He was visibly surprised by her actions, but not disgusted or horrified, and no longer trying to tuck his shirt back in. She continued the anatomy lesson in that soft, seductive voice, "Let's move on to my favourite muscle, the deltoid. It's named that because the Greek letter, delta, is a triangle shape. Part of the deltoid starts at the clavicle, also known as the collar bone, which is right here." She proceeded to trace his collar bone with her slippery fingertips. She had to take another half-step closer because her arm was short and had to bend at the elbow to accommodate leaving his shirt intact. After a long enough pause to ensure he had felt where she was touching, she traced the edge of the muscle over the top of his shoulder. "Another part of the deltoid attaches at the acromion, which is this bony protrusion right here, and then the last third attaches here," her fingers glided across the muscle to his back, where she outlined the origin point with a smooth, massaging touch, "at the spine of the scapula, which is part of your shoulder blade."

Their abdomens were close now, but she didn't cheat by allowing any contact below the waist, using only one hand and her voice to make her point. "So the base of the triangle is here," she used her entire palm over the curve of his shoulder, then traced the narrowing outline with her thumb and middle finger down his upper arm, which was tricky in light of the tight space inside the sleeve, "and comes to its point about here, on your humerus bone, where there's this little rough spot called the..." she switched to tiptoe and throaty whispering in his ear again "deltoid tuberosity" after which she resumed her regular stature and let her warm breath hit him where his shirt collar ended and his bare neck began, "...that the muscle attaches to."

Next, she slid her fingers and palm around on his shoulder, massaging gently as she spoke in the most seductive tone she could produce, "I have never seen your shoulders without layers of clothing over them, but I know they are strong and capable. You use them to rescue people every day, which is infinitely more important than what they look like or even what they feel like under my greasy fingers. So you see, Virgil, when I say you have the deltoids of a god, I may not choose to employ a gauche word like 'sexy', per se, but don't you think for one second that it isn't a point of great attraction or not as good a compliment. You're so sexy, you're beyond the very word."

She let her oily fingers do the talking for a few seconds, then she drew her free left hand up to her face and pretended to check her watch. "Is my time up yet?" Only then did she dare meet his eyes.

He stared at her with his jaw dropped. After a second, he managed to find his voice and blurt out, "You win. I'm disabused."

She smiled. "You reassured me of your love more than once. Why shouldn't I do it for you? You may have the deltoids of a god, but you're still human. My heart belongs to you and  _only_  you. I don't care if I have to remind you hundreds of times. You're worth it."

He took her in his arms and kissed her, enfolding her into his embrace.

When it was over, she chuckled lightly. "You think that was good, next time, take off your shirt and I'll explain how sexy your latissimus dorsi and trapezius muscles are." She accompanied this statement with a wink.

"I can't wait."

She removed her hand from under his shirt and pulled on the hem to straighten the wrinkles. "Neither can I."


	28. Chapter 28

Sally knew she had dodged a huge bullet when Maria didn't reveal her diagnosis on that terrible interrogation recording. It certainly wouldn't have been Maria's fault if she'd said anything while drugged, but it would have been extremely awkward for Sally to have to admit to her family it was true and she'd failed to tell everyone herself. Virgil had been especially vulnerable, and had he been forced to deal with his grandmother's secret and his girlfriend's possible death at the same time, it could have been devastating. Sally knew she needed to tell them all, and soon. There were just a few little details she wanted to work out first.

The main one was how Maria would fit into the family beyond her likelihood of eventually marrying Virgil. Her grandson might not realise she was  _the one_  yet, but Sally had no doubt he'd catch up eventually. It would complicate matters if Maria didn't have a good solid place in the family apart from her relationship though. It wouldn't do at all for Maria to feel any sort of pressure to marry Virgil just to have a place to live. She needed to have purpose and acceptance for herself first, so marrying Virgil would be solely for love.

Several positive developments had moved them all in that direction. Scott coming full on board and deciding she was family had been major. The fact Brains had recognised value in that weird anatomy song was another big step. It wasn't surprising Stephen Q. Watson Medical College wanted the song, but they probably wouldn't have forgiven all her debt if not for Kayo ever-so-slyly dropping hints that Maria had a very solid case for a sexual harassment lawsuit and how tons of negative publicity for the school might occur if Maria suddenly decided to take her story public. Forgiving her student loan debt was actually a very small price to pay for preserving Maria's goodwill after they'd failed to protect her from that sleezebag clinical rotations director. The fact they also got a valuable educational song in the deal was simply bonus for them. Maria had no idea Kayo had said anything, nor did she even want to dredge all that history up again. But the turn of events did give her the advantage of now being debt-free.

Brains was giddy as a schoolboy to have the opportunity to get Maria all decked out to do underwater perimeter patrol. She'd undoubtedly end up equipped just as well as Lady Penelope, although Sally really hoped Brains realised Maria wasn't as into pink as their London agent was. Sally had not even thought of something like that, but putting her on island surveillance and making her part of Kayo's security team was a stroke of genius and Maria had come up with it all by herself.

It was obvious Maria loved the cooking and gardening part of her job. Sally felt pretty sure she would be willing to stay simply as cook-housekeeper-underwater patroller. However, it was ridiculous to waste her nursing talents. The boys just needed to see how she could be useful to them.

Although Maria was getting stronger and stronger every day, Sally continued encouraging her to sit and watch rescues more, hoping she might catch on to how overworked the boys were and how the GDF was taking them for granted. Whether Maria was seeing it or not was anyone's guess, but she wasn't very good at sitting still. Sally figured Maria most likely had a hyperactivity disorder, not to mention a very strong work ethic, and probably a little guilt thrown in, all conspiring against her to make it difficult for her to simply watch other people doing rescues while she did 'nothing'. Of course, Sally didn't consider it 'nothing'. Sally considered it education. But she couldn't really explain that to Maria, nor  _why_  it was important.

However, Maria was quite willing to help fold clean laundry or work on her shark teaching materials while in the lounge. At first, Sally didn't think she was paying any attention to the rescues when her eyes were on something else, but Maria was fairly good at multi-tasking and could catch nearly every word that came over comms while never looking up from a mountain of towels or a life-size hammerhead silhouette she was cutting out from black paper.

There were dozens of different shark silhouette cutouts plastered on walls all over the house now, sometimes with a side view and an overhead view both, so the various fin shapes and body configurations could be discerned. The cutouts had simple descriptions of characteristic features and the species names in bold white letters. It was supposed to be for Gordon and Alan, but Sally found she was inadvertently learning about sharks as well. Maria made it interesting and fun. Learning happened by osmosis rather than being a chore.

Maria had flash cards of the silhouettes (with the names on the back only) which she would randomly pull out of her apron pocket and quiz Alan or Gordon when they least expected it. At meal times, she'd say something like, "Where on a shark's body would I find a caudal fin?" or "Tell me one thing you know about leopard sharks," and then she held back their food until they each came up with an answer. Every once in a while, Brains would say, "I didn't know that," during their exchanges, which always made Maria smile extra wide.

Sally sent Maria on her first supply run without going herself. The elder Tracy no longer needed to waste the energy tagging along to a warehouse store. It gave Virgil and Maria a little extra time alone together and hopefully helped Maria realise how much Sally trusted her. The quality of food improved at least tenfold after they had the right supplies and Maria was well enough to cook full time again.

Because they were restocked on baking ingredients, Maria was down in the kitchen making cookies while Sally was in the lounge. John's image popped in, but he wore one of his uncertain or confused looks. Brains, Scott, and Gordon were already in the room with Sally.

"Guys, I'm not sure what to do with this call..." John said.

"What's the situation,  _Thunderbird 5_?" Scott asked.

"I'm not sure it  _is_  a situation. A fourteen year old boy called in saying he heard weird noises coming from an abandoned construction site." John ran some satellite footage of an unpopulated area where it appeared someone had started developing, but quit. The land had been graded and some concrete was poured, but no framing was done. "It's on the outskirts of a suburb. Our caller was riding a mountain bike out there when he heard this." John's holo-image pressed a button and the weird noises played. It sounded something like moaning or an animal in distress. When the boy called "Hello? Anyone down there?" the sounds didn't stop or change in any way.

"It's coming from that pit where it appears they dug out a basement or elevator shaft or something before they abandoned the site. He doesn't know if it's an animal, a person, or just some jokesters who left a creepy recording. Local authorities are ruling it a prank. The kid gave me this much information, but he wouldn't stay on the line because he's afraid he'll get blamed if it  _is_  a prank. So what do you think?"

"What do your scans show?" Scott asked.

"There's a life sign about twenty metres down, but it's either a small animal like a cat or too many steel reinforcement rods to get a good reading on human."

"John, be a dear and play the sounds again," Sally said.

John played the recording. Scott looked at her. "What do you think, Grandma?"

"I think you should launch  _Thunderbird 1_  right away and take Maria with you."

"Maria? Why, do you think it's someone injured?"

"I think Maria is uniquely qualified to help you on this. Be nice and don't toss her out in that RAD ball, all right? She's there to  _help_."

Scott looked dubious, but he didn't argue. "If you say so. I'll meet her on  _Thunderbird 1_ 's pad." He backed up to the wall and pulled on the sconces. "Thunderbirds are go!"

Sally yelled down the staircase towards the kitchen, "Maria, drop whatever you're doing and run down to the hangar. You need to help Scott on a mission."

"Should I grab my stethoscope or anything?" she yelled back.

"No. Everything you need should be on  _Thunderbird 1_. Hurry now. Don't keep Scott waiting." Sally then turned to Gordon. "Would you run down there and make sure Maria gets to the lift okay? I'm not sure she knows where to go."

"You got it, Grandma," Gordon said. He dashed off.


	29. Chapter 29

Maria removed her apron as she ran, dropping it on the back of a chair as she left the kitchen. This was something new. Sally had never suggested she go on a rescue before. Was it because she finally trusted Scott not to try to scare her off or was there an injury they felt needed a nurse? The vast majority of the time, the people International Rescue helped really only needed assistance getting out of a dangerous spot, or possibly first aid and a quick transport to a hospital.

Her heartbeat quickened like it did when she had her rotation in the emergency room. Everything was Stat! Stat! Stat! She couldn't keep up that kind of pace indefinitely, but it did have a certain adrenaline rush that made it exciting. Gordon nearly bumped into her on a stairwell inside the hangar. He wasn't in uniform, but he showed her where to go and what button to press to get to the auxiliary hatch entrance to  _Thunderbird 1_.

"You got this!" he yelled enthusiastically, waving to her as the robotic lift moved up and away.

 _Got what?_  she wondered as she waved in return.

Now that she had her glasses and the opportunity to look around better, she could ogle at the shiny silver sleekness that was  _Thunderbird 1_. Scott's telescoping walkway started extending just as her lifting platform reached its destination and stopped. Maria hopped into the back seat and buckled in. The auxiliary hatch closed. In another few seconds, Scott's seat retracted to the inside and the two upper hatch door pieces slid into place.

"Good, you're here. Everything secure back there?" Scott asked.

"Buckled in and ready," Maria replied. "Why am I here though?"

"I have no idea. Grandma Tracy said to bring you. I'm just following orders."

 _Umm, okay_. She decided not to try to prod him for more information while he was doing all his pre-flight rigmarole. Although unlikely, it was possible Sally just told Scott to take her on an easy rescue to give her the chance to see  _Thunderbird 1_  better than she had before. Scott might be livid when he found out, but it would probably be with Sally. Maria was going to soak it up for all it was worth. The takeoff was intense and exhilarating. It was easy to see why Scott was so addicted to his work.

Just after liftoff, Scott declared, " _Thunderbird 1_  is go!"

The course display showed them headed to the United States, probably Idaho, Montana, or Wyoming, from the looks of it. The map was topographical and had no state boundaries to help her figure out exactly. She had zero experience outside the Los Angeles metropolitan area, so she hoped Sally didn't expect her to know anything about the landscape or the locals. At least she could be reasonably sure she wouldn't have to speak Russian.

Once they were cruising horizontally, Scott activated comms. "Any more information yet,  _Thunderbird 5_?"

John's image popped up. The projector on  _Thunderbird 1_  made him look life-sized, unlike the projectors on  _Thunderbirds 2_  and  _4_ , that rendered smaller images. John shook his head and sighed. "Nothing. Did Grandma give you any clue?"

"Not unless you call Maria a clue."

"Don't look at me. I'm clueless," Maria muttered.

"She doesn't even know what we do, John," Scott said. "Play that recording for her."

John played an audio-only recording. It sounded like a high-pitched moaning from a cave or somewhere they would get an echo. There was something familiar about the moaning, but Maria couldn't quite put her finger on it. Someone else tried to engage the sound, but when it didn't pause, Maria finally put the clues together.

"I know why I'm here," she said.

John's face looked the most surprised she'd ever seen it. Scott actually turned his head and looked around the back of his pilot's seat at her. "What is it?"

"I'm pretty sure your trapped victim is severely hearing impaired or deaf. That's what people sound like when they've never heard another voice. That's why she didn't pause to listen when someone called to ask if she needed help. I'm saying 'she' because it sounds like a girl to me, but it could be a young boy. The reason Sally sent me is I know a little sign language and the manual alphabet. If she's old enough to spell, I can communicate anything you need to say by spelling it out. If she can't spell yet, well, I know enough signs to maybe calm her down a little, tell her you're here to help."

"We've never had a deaf situation before," John said with either surprise or awe in his voice. "Synthetic implants and nanotechnology therapies have reduced the incidence of hearing loss considerably."

"Believe it or not, John," Maria said, "some people don't consider deafness a condition that needs curing. If two deaf parents have a deaf child, they might not seek any kind of intervention at all. Deaf people have their own culture and looking for a 'cure' is regarded the same way we would regard trying to change a baby's skin colour or eye colour. The three-year-old deaf child who attended my preschool had one deaf parent and one hearing parent. They decided to put her in an inclusive mainstream program with an interpreter, so she could be a part of both cultures and identify with both parents. That three-year-old is the reason I learned what little I know."

"And we're lucky for that," Scott said. "I don't think any of us could handle this kind of communication, even if someone told us what to do."

That much was certainly true. Unlike verbal languages, it took too long to describe how to perform the shapes and movements. Sign language needed to be learned from other signers, not from drawings and definitely not from someone trying to explain it second-hand.

"You'll probably need the cable cam or Mini-MAX if you want to try to communicate before you attempt the rescue," Maria said, not really  _to_  Scott, but thinking out loud.

Scott answered without looking back, "Cable cam is on  _Thunderbird 2_  and Virgil's busy in Singapore at the moment, but Mini-MAX is a great idea. However, you could have projected to Mini-MAX from Tracy Island, so I'm not sure that's the only reason you're here."

"Maybe Sally thought I'd need to go down in that pit in person?" Maria suggested.

"Have you ever done any rappelling or mountain climbing?" Scott asked.

"No."

"Then that's out of the question. Not putting you in danger when Mini-MAX can project your image from a safe location."

"Fine by me. Just tell me what you want me to do."

"You've already done a lot by figuring out what's going on. We can't make any further plans until we get there and assess the situation."

Actually,  _Sally_  was the one who figured out what was going on long before Maria did, but it was nice of Scott to give her credit. Maria sat back and enjoyed the ride in silence. Scott wouldn't need any input from her to fly. She'd just be an annoyance.

"You okay back there?" he asked after only a few minutes. "Motion sickness bags are under the seat if you need them."

Maria was pretty sure that was for Brains. He seemed to be extremely sensitive to every mode of travel. "I'm fine. It's a lot more fun from this seat rather than staring at the walls from the capsule."

"I don't think it's the seat. That's where Virgil sat when you were in the capsule and I'm pretty sure he wasn't having any fun at all." He paused half a second. "Speaking of Virgil, what are you two up to? He's been kind of quiet since you got home from Vektor."

Maria didn't know what to make of this. It seemed a little nosy, but then again, the Tracys had very few secrets from one another. They lived practically their entire waking lives on comms with everyone listening all the time. After having her journal raided, her goofy dancing exposed, and her personal opinions forced out of her and replayed for everyone to listen to, this shouldn't have been too shocking, but she still wasn't quite used to it.

Could Virgil have possibly been right about Scott being interested in her? It seemed so ridiculous and impossible. On the extremely minute chance that could be the case, she wasn't going to give him any opening. Time for nipping in the bud. "Oh, we're just planning our dozens of kids." She left out the 'hypothetical' part. Minor detail.

Scott made a sort of gasping hiccup sound. Maria had the distinct impression that if he had been drinking at that moment, he would have choked and sputtered all over the place.

She smiled. This was way too much fun. "I hope you're ready for dozens of nieces and nephews wanting a ride with Uncle Scott. You're going to have to put more seats back here."

"I...uh..." He looked around frantically. "Oh, we're here. Coming in for a landing."

The landing turned out to be less imminent than he made it out to be, but Scott didn't try to make any more conversation after that.

They both disembarked. Scott sent Mini-MAX down into the pit to try to find the source of the 'weird noises', which were more intermittent now. Their victim was getting tired. Maria was even more convinced after hearing it in person that it was a deaf person making the sounds. Finally, Mini-MAX beeped excitedly. Maria looked over Scott's shoulder to see the image of a very frightened little girl, probably 8 or 9 years old.

Scott handed Maria a comms unit. "You're on."

"Could you please hold the disk so I can use both hands?" she asked him. Spelling would only need one hand, but she would use signs when she could.

"Sure thing." Scott held the compact unit up to her face. Maria gently pushed it down and backwards a little. Getting her hands at chest height in the shot was more important than a face close-up.

"Hello, my name is Maria," Maria spoke out loud as she signed, both because that was what she'd been told was best practice for those who could read lips, but also so Scott would know what was going on. She spelled her name out before giving her name-sign, which was a letter 'm' that swam like a fish. Probably not a name-sign that a parent would bestow, but when you let three-year-olds determine your name, you get very interesting results. "What's your name?" she asked.

The little girl spelled and Maria announced the letters as she saw them, "A...M...Y. Amy. Are you hurt?" Maria signed.

She pointed to the arm she wasn't using to communicate with.

"Your arm?" Maria asked, spelling 'arm' because she wasn't certain that pointing to the arm wasn't a different sign she didn't know.

Amy nodded.

"I'm here with International Rescue," which took a while to spell out and made Maria nervous because she wasn't sure it was fair to expect an 8-year-old to know a big word like 'international'.

The girl grinned and made a letter 't' sign that blasted off and flew over her head. Many signs had regional differences, but it was apparent that 'Thunderbird' was the same here as in Los Angeles.

"Yes, we came in  _Thunderbird 1_ ," Maria signed and said. She then put her hand on Scott's shoulder and whispered, "Get in shot" to him without signing. When he moved the comms so it was between them, she continued signing. "This is Scott. He's going to help you out. He doesn't know how to sign, but I can interpret for him on this robot. The robot's name is Mini-MAX." She could hear the servos squeaking as Mini-MAX waved.

Amy nodded.

"Tell her to stay still," Scott said.

"Scott says to stay there and don't move. Wait for him. O.K., Amy?"

She nodded and signed O.K.

Maria reverted to verbal for Scott. "She says O.K. Anything else I should tell her?"

"That should do it, but stand by in case we need you."

"You got it," Maria said.

Scott handed off the comms disk, strapped on his jet pack, and donned his helmet, then he disappeared down the hole. It looked like he was using a combination of gecko gloves and his handheld grapple launcher, with the jet pack as backup, or possibly for the exit.

It seemed to take forever for him to make it to Amy. For her part, Amy still looked frightened, but she'd stopped moaning and was keeping still rather well. Mini-MAX must have a bright light because Amy would squint when she looked straight into the holo-projector. Scott finally made it to her, but she still looked terrified.

"Amy," Maria signed and spoke, "Scott is there to help you. Don't be afraid."

"Tell her to grab onto me," Scott said. He didn't holo-project through Mini-MAX because it was centred on Amy, but Maria could hear his voice.

"You can move now. Grab onto Scott. He will take you out."

The holo-projection showed Amy did as she was told and latched onto Scott's neck with her good arm. Scott held her and started his jet pack. The two of them shot up through the hole and onto the concrete slab next to  _Thunderbird 1_. Scott lowered her to the ground. As soon as her feet touched, she released her grip on his neck and dashed away, straight to Maria.

Maria crouched down to her level and greeted her in sign language. She also quickly checked the arm. It wasn't bleeding, so the injury could wait for a doctor.

Amy initiated a hug, which Maria returned, but Amy squeezed so tightly that Maria could hardly breathe. No amount of prodding was convincing her to let go, but she did loosen enough that Maria could breathe again. Maria picked her up and swayed in a gentle rocking motion, patting her back. Amy cried a little, but Maria felt it was to release her pent-up anxiety, just a frightened little girl who'd been through an ordeal. She wasn't loud, although her cries did sound a little different than a hearing child's would. Maria alternated patting her back and stroking her hair.

"And  _ **that**_  is why I sent Maria," Sally's voice said over comms.

Scott stood with his hands on his hips, more than happy to delegate the comforting-crying-children role to anyone else. He chuckled and then said, "F.A.B."

"The GDF found the mother," John announced. "They're on their way. Good job, both of you."

Ten minutes later, a GDF flyer landed closeby and a frantic mother ran down the ramp. Amy was oblivious to this until Maria turned around to let her see what was happening. She pushed away, so Maria let Amy down to the ground. The girl ran to her mother, signing something along the way that Maria couldn't see.

The mother picked up her child and then moved toward Scott. "Thank you," she said. It was obvious to Maria that the mother was deaf from the way her voice sounded, but she had also worked hard learning to speak.

Maria signed the 'welcome' sign so only Scott could see it. He picked up what she was trying to do and copied her movements for the mother, who took that to mean Scott knew her language. She started signing enthusiastically, but since her back was turned to Maria, she couldn't see the signs to attempt interpretation.

Scott got a panicked look on his face, shook his head, and waved his arms in negation. Amy pulled on her mother's shirt to get her attention, then signed something to her and pointed to Maria. The mother thanked Maria in sign language and Maria responded in kind.

A GDF soldier guided the mother back to the waiting flyer. She nodded and started toward it, turning her back on Scott and Maria. Amy was looking over her mother's shoulder while being carried. Maria signed goodbye to Amy.

Amy signed thank you, goodbye, and friend.


	30. Chapter 30

Maria couldn't remember what they had been talking about as they cleaned up after dinner when Virgil found out she'd never been to Paris. None of the Tracys could possibly conceive what it was like to have never really gone much of anywhere in one's entire life. Maria had lived all of her 27 years in Los Angeles and only traveled to Mexico a few times in her childhood to visit some relatives before the Great Earthquake of 2052 that killed over ninety thousand people, including her family. The only reason she'd got the chance to go to London was because of a very modest life insurance policy she'd been sole beneficiary to when her mother passed. Russia didn't really count in Maria's mind, being as she was unconscious and deathly ill for the majority of the time and didn't see much except as they were leaving.

"I want to take you to Paris," Virgil said. "For a nice quiet dinner, just the two of us."

How could anyone turn down a dinner in the city synonymous with love? "That sounds lovely, Virgil. Are you going to make reservations?"

He frowned slightly. "I don't see how we could make reservations with my responsibilities here."

She touched his shoulder as a consoling act, quite aware she'd designated and demonstrated that particular body part as especially attractive. "Hey, it's okay. Spontaneous is not a problem. I can be as flexible as Sally allows." His grandmother had been very supportive of their relationship and very generous with granting time off. Maria doubted very much that Sally would do otherwise than shoo them out the door and yell at them to have a great time, regardless of when his free moment happened to come.

"Why don't you go right now?" Sally suggested. "It doesn't get much less busy than this. It's morning in Paris. Not dinner, but  _le petit déjeuner_."

Only Scott was on a mission at the moment, and Virgil would of course be in uniform so he could go if he had to. Maria was aware any date could always be interrupted for an emergency.

"Grandma, we just ate!" Virgil protested.

"Oh, you're really going to Paris to  _eat?_  Silly me." She winked at Maria. "If you want to eat dinner on Paris time, you'll have to leave here at 0400. How does that sound?"

By the look on Virgil's face, that didn't sound very appealing either. Maria didn't particularly like the idea. She'd have to get up at 3:30 am to be ready, plus that was getting close to the busier time of the day for International Rescue.

"How about we take a walk on the Seine right now and grab some pastries to take home on the way out?" Virgil directed his compromise toward Maria.

"You're on," she said. "Do I have time for a shower?"

He chuckled. "Well, I need one too, so we'd better have time."

Maria quickly helped Sally up to the lounge. "Are you sure you're okay without me for a while?"

"Of course! I won't take any stairs without help. Gordon and Alan are both here. Go. Have a good time."

Maria ran upstairs and showered quickly. It would take too long to give her hair the proper 'date treatment', so she didn't bother trying. Her hair was clean and she would wear it down, but it would be a little bun-squashed and not as curly. Virgil had seen her hair when it looked more like a rat's nest than anything else. He probably wouldn't even notice a few indentations. He was so incredibly forgiving when it came to her appearance.

Her Hawaiian dress was none the worse for having been soaked in seawater and caked in sand. It was all clean now, and she knew Virgil liked it, so she put it on. Besides all the time she'd been able to spend with Virgil, the one other benefit she'd reaped from being deathly sick was the loss of ten pounds. Thirty would have been better, but she'd take any improvement she could get.

She hurried down the hall toward the stairs. But just as she was passing the closed door to his bedroom, she heard Virgil's voice, yelling rather angrily, "Gordon! What did you  ** _do_**  to my shampoo?"

Gordon's door opened just a crack and he peeked out, laughing, but holding his hand over his mouth.

Virgil's door banged open and he appeared in the hall wearing a terrycloth bathrobe, still dripping wet. But his hair... oh his beautiful hair. Maria didn't know whether to laugh or cry. His hair was tangled in a  _massive_  clump of what appeared to be pink bubblegum. A camera flash went off. Virgil stomped toward Gordon's door, but Gordon saw the look on his brother's face and decided to make a run for it. He bolted down the hall, squealing out something about "...payback for that time you disabled the shower."

Virgil saw Maria and ceased pursuit. "That was six years ago!" he yelled at Gordon's back. He sighed. "Not to mention, much less permanent." He looked up at Maria. "And look at you, all dressed up like a dream come true. Sorry, sweetheart, but I'm not going anywhere with a bubblegum head. Paris will have to wait. I wonder if Brains has some electric shears or something..."

"Do you really want to shave your head?" Maria was a bit horrified at the idea, but hair grew back. Besides, bald wasn't so bad on men.

He pointed to the gum-tangled mess and shook his head. "I don't see I have any choice. Pink is not my colour."

"Did you forget who you're courting with? I can fix this."

"You can?"

"Biochem degree, remember? Not only that, I know how we can make this backfire on Gordon."

"Really? How?" He gave her a look that suggested he thought her capable of murder.

"Honey, I went to UCLA. Pranking is practically a major there. Gordon's an amateur. I'm a pro." She gave him a once-over with her eyes, not that she hadn't already noticed, but to be sure he would know her next words were sincere. "And for the record, your legs are just as sexy as Gordon's."

This put a smile on his face.

"Go put on some clothes, but leave your boots off, grab a towel, and meet me in the kitchen."

He looked a little doubtful, but not enough to show any distrust in her words. He muttered, "F.A.B." and tramped back into his bedroom.

Maria hurried back to her room, changed into clean scrubs and apron, added her own bottle of shampoo to the apron pocket, and put her hair back in a bun. She went downstairs and stopped in the lounge. "Change of plans," she announced to Sally.

"What in the world happened? I thought we were having an earthquake with all that stomping and yelling."

"Looks like a sibling rivalry thing. Gordon slipped bubble gum concentrate into Virgil's shampoo bottle and now his hair is a huge mess of pink goop."

"Oh my," Sally gasped.

"Not to worry," Maria said brightly. "I know how to get it out. And I intend to make the treatment so pleasant that Paris will pale in comparison. If you see Gordon, be sure to thank him for me. This is going to be fun."

"Does Gordon need to see how much fun you're having or is it the private kind?" She gave a knowing wink.

"We'll be in the kitchen, and we'd love for him to see."

"Have fun," Sally said with a smile.

Maria ran down to the kitchen, pulled the jar she needed out of the pantry, and set it next to the sink. She cleared the sinkside counter of its regular fruit bowl and plate of cookies. When Virgil arrived, she took his towel and rolled it up, then set it on the edge of the sink to support his neck. "Okay, hop up here and lie down on your back with your head in the sink. It'll be just like a barbershop, but no cutting, I promise."

He hoisted himself to the counter and positioned himself as she instructed. "What's the peanut butter for?"

"That's my big chemical secret."

"You're going to put that in my hair?"

"Yes I am. It will break up the gum and then it will all wash out. Just leave it to me. Now listen, if Gordon comes in here, you are going to  _thank_  him."

"What?" His angry eyebrows suggested he'd rather throttle his brother.

"Yes,  _thank_  him, and say it like you mean it. You are going to pretend that my ministrations are the height of luxury and that Gordon has done you a huge  _favour_  by making it possible. He wants you to be furious and upset. If you're happy about it instead of fuming, that takes all the wind out of his sails, and voilà, you win."

"You are so devious." He pulled her face down for a quick smooch.

"Why thank you. I try." She started unscrewing the lid on the jar. "Okay, this may smell peanutty for a while." She used a serving spoon to remove two heaping hunks of peanut butter and plop them on his head. She set the jar aside and then started working the peanut butter into the gum thoroughly. She also used her fingertips to massage his scalp much more than was necessary for the gum removal.

"You know, I don't think I'll need to pretend," Virgil said. "This feels really good."

"See? Told you I'm a pro."

There were footsteps on the stairs. "Someone's coming," Maria whispered.

Virgil started his act, which included lots of low groaning "Mmmmmm" and "Oh yeah".

"Sheesh, get a room, you two," Alan's voice said. It sounded like he changed direction and started going back up.

Virgil's face turned almost as pink as his hair was. "Sorry, Alan," he yelled.

"It's okay, we're not doing anything," Maria called out to him. "Gordon spiked Virgil's shampoo with bubble gum. I'm just washing it out."

Alan reversed course again and arrived in the kitchen. "That's _some_  washing," he remarked. He sniffed and peered into the sink. "Is that peanut butter?"

"Yes. Nothing better to get out gum," Maria told him.

"We were supposed to be going to Paris," Virgil explained. "For a real date. Then this happened."

"And you're not mad?" Alan asked incredulously.

"No, because that's just what Gordon wants. Besides, Maria has magic fingers and this is actually very relaxing." He let his eyes roll back in their sockets and let out a deep sigh. Maria couldn't tell if he was faking it or not.

"So, Alan," Maria said, slipping into teacher mode without even thinking about it. "The sevengill shark obviously has seven gills, but it got that name because seven gills are unusual for a shark. What's the usual number of gill slits for a shark?"

"Five!" Alan declared triumphantly.

"Right answer!" Maria said without losing the rhythm in her scalp massage. "You win the snack of your choice!" Not that snacks ever came with cost or penalty in the Tracy house. "Cookies and fruit on the back counter. Jerky in the dehydrator. Leftovers in the fridge. Help yourself." She didn't turn to watch, but it sounded like he found the cookies just fine.

Virgil spoke in a voice that sounded like he was half asleep. "Most women would be livid or at least disappointed to miss an opportunity to go to Paris. Why are you so chill?"

"Because I'm not  _pretending_  this is fun. I'm actually enjoying it," Maria said. "Of course that probably means whenever anyone says,  _'We'll always have Paris'_  I'm going to think of bubblegum and peanut butter, not the Eiffel Tower and croissants."

"We'll make it to Paris one of these days," Virgil said dreamily without opening his eyes.

Kayo walked in and saw the odd scene around the kitchen sink. "What's going on?"

"We're taking a walk on the Seine," Virgil mumbled. "Why don't you join us?"

Alan laughed and then explained, "Gordon put bubblegum in Virgil's shampoo. You might say it's a  _sticky_  situation."

"That little squid. How are you getting him back?" Kayo asked with keen interest.

"By  _not_  shaving my head," Virgil said. "Plus, Maria turned it into this epic spa treatment and scalp massage so Gordon gets no satisfaction. I'm going to  _thank_  him."

"Ah, the reverse psychology trick. Nice one. Although, I could never pull that off, myself."

Virgil chuckled darkly. "Yeah, you can catch him and make him pay in other ways. Which is probably why  _you_  will never get gum concentrate in _your_  shampoo."

"Oh, he'd better not." Kayo turned to Maria. "Brains asked me to tell you that he finished your diving gear. You can try it on whenever you want."

"Thanks, Kayo."

Kayo joined Alan at the counter where the cookies were, but whether she came to eat or just hang out with Alan was anyone's guess. Maria was enjoying the silken hair and warm skin beneath her fingers too much to care what anyone else was doing at the moment.

"Speaking of your diving gear," Virgil said to Maria, "has Gordon done any scuba instruction yet?"

"He gave me the manual, which included a written test. I aced that part. I guess now my gear is ready we can do the underwater stuff."

"How's my hair coming? I want to see you in your new suit."

"Gum is all out." She had made a pile of it so as not to clog the drain. "Now to wash out the peanut butter. You ready for the sprayer?"

"Have at it."

She rinsed his hair to get as much of the residue out as would come with just water, running her fingers through the strands to facilitate cleaning. Then she pulled her own shampoo from her apron pocket and lathered it up. After the peanut solids went down the drain on rinsing, she did a second lather to get rid of the smell. One final rinse and the last indulgence of her fingers, then she squeezed the water out. "Looks pretty good. Try drying it off to make sure. We can always run another cycle if it doesn't feel like I got all the peanut oil."

Virgil lifted a hand to his head. "Feels great. Perfect, in fact."

"I couldn't agree more." She kissed him.

"I'm going to go upstairs and blow-dry. Meet you in the lounge after you get your suit on." He took off for the bedroom level.


	31. Chapter 31

Maria headed up to the lounge where Sally was sitting and Brains was pacing, his brows furrowed in concentration.

"Oh, Maria, you're here. Maybe you can help," Sally said.

"Help? What's up?"

"Yes! Maybe you can see something I'm m-missing," Brains said. "We think The Alchemist is responsible for this huge chemical cloud that's headed t-toward Cape Town, South Africa. It's out in the Atlantic r-right now. A ship reported it was b-burning people's lungs and eyes until they g-got out of it. That wasn't even the worst part. It's more concentrated t-toward the center of the cloud. A ship can m-move out of the way easily enough, but if they have to evacuate a city, it's going to be a c-catastrophe."

"Do you know what's in the cloud?"

"Scott flew in and s-sent us a scan." Brains projected dozens of molecular stick-models into the space over the lounge, where they floated around like a strange soup, some of them crazy-huge and complicated.

Maria studied the molecules for a good two minutes, then she smiled. "You're tired and you're making this harder than you need to, Brains. Most of this is just inert filler meant to distract and confuse us. Look close, right here." She grabbed the control to highlight something on the display. "Isn't that a hydroxide group? That's the only caustic part I can see."

"How did I m-miss that? Of course! It's just an inorganic base. All we n-need is some acid to neutralise it."

"You can't go spraying acid on a city!" Sally declared.

"Of course you can," Maria said. "A superfine mist of lemon juice or vinegar will probably do the trick. When you mix an acid and a base you get water and a salt. If we can force the reaction before this cloud reaches land, the precipitate will end up in the ocean. Harmless to fish and people. No evacuation, no panic."

Brains went into planning mode, resuming his pacing. "I'll need to m-modify the foam canisters to deliver a fine mist and we'll need three heli-pods to get the best d-distribution..."

Maria shook her head. "You shouldn't have to do that. Call the GDF and tell them to recruit some local crop dusting or firefighting planes. They're closer and they won't need to modify any equipment, just what they put in their hoppers."

Brains looked up and smiled at her then spoke into the centre of the room. "Colonel Casey, did you g-get that?" It sounded like she had been listening this whole time.

The colonel's image projected into the lounge, replacing the molecules. "I did. Recruiting some local planes right now. Thank you, International Rescue." She winked out.

"Crop d-dusters for the win!" Brains lifted his hand for a high-five.

Maria gladly took him up on it. "Did you say this was The Alchemist? Did anyone get a lead on him?" She really,  _really_  wanted to see that madman behind bars.

Brains sighed. "Unfortunately, n-no. It's only a guess he did this. These chemicals didn't occur naturally and someone had to p-put them there."

"Sounds like something he'd do," Maria agreed.

Just then, Virgil returned to the lounge with his hair dry and looking handsome as usual. "Hey, you were supposed to be getting your suit on," he said.

"Maria was busy saving Cape Town from a cloud of chemicals," Sally informed him.

"You did? In under five minutes?"

Brains chuckled. "She figured it out in t-two."

Sally added, "The other three minutes were devoted to saving us all time and trouble to do a job that the GDF could handle."

Virgil didn't say anything, but Maria gathered from his facial expression that he was impressed or perhaps just proud of her. Maria wondered why the GDF didn't have a real chemist on staff that could have figured this out in ten seconds rather than taxing poor Brains with the problem.

Brains indicated a folded-up suit, fins, and a helmet sitting on a spare chair in the lounge. "There's your s-suit. Hope it f-fits."

Maria picked up the suit, but left the fins and helmet. "I'll be right back," she told everyone as she ran toward the stairs to her room.

She carefully unfolded the textured neoprene. It was mostly a light aqua, like the lightest color on Kayo's uniform, with bright white as the secondary color. It had Kayo's darker teal color in the piping that accented the seams, the edges of sleeves, and the neck. Perhaps the best part was that the right shoulder had a triangular patch on it, just like all the other International Rescue uniforms. Hers wasn't a Thunderbird icon, like all the pilots had, nor an icon of MAX, like Brains'; hers was a dark blue field with a white staff of Asclepius and entwined snake—the universal symbol used by healthcare workers ranging from ambulance drivers to nuclear neurosurgeons. She held it to her chest and suppressed tears that threatened to form in her eyes.

Maria removed her scrubs and carefully slipped into the suit. It fit like a dream. Of course, she rather expected it to after Brains had done a full-body laser scan. She grabbed the tail on the back zipper and pulled it up with ease.  _Please, please, please don't look terrible on my stupid body_ , she wished with all her might. She walked toward her full-length mirror with great trepidation, not daring to look up. She closed her eyes and raised her head, crossed the fingers on both hands, drew a deep breath, and then slowly opened her eyes to peer at her reflection.

She didn't look as perfect as Lady Penelope or as fit and lean as Kayo, but Brains had done a fantastic job of making this fitted outfit somehow minimise the flaws and flatter what she had. In fact, Maria didn't think she'd ever worn  _anything_  before that actually looked this good on her. Not only did the suit look good, but  _she_  looked good  _in_  it.

Back in the lounge, Virgil saw her enter first. "Wow. That's it. You need to find a scuba school run by nuns, because no men anywhere should be trusted with you looking like that."

Maria thought he was serious at first, but then she caught his smile. She played along. "Our Lady of Scuba Sisters or Cousteau Convent?"

Virgil laughed but everyone else ignored their little joke.

"I'm so glad it f-fits," Brains said.

"I kind of never want to take it off, Brains. It's awesome. Thank you so much."

"Try the helmet and the fins," he said.

Maria tried the helmet first. White with aqua-coloured trim, it had "MRIA" printed on the side in the same place where Brains had "BRNS" on his helmet. It didn't fit correctly over her bun, so she set it aside and removed the pins that held her hair up and tried again. It fit perfectly on the second try. She would pick up a new silicone cap to keep her hair out of the way. The main thing was that it didn't interfere with her glasses. She would be able to see underwater.

The fins fit, but they were awkward to walk in, so she took them off as soon as she confirmed the size was right.

"You'll have a set of aqualungs, regulator, and diving c-computer as well, but those won't need try-on, so I left them d-down in my lab," Brains said.

"Thank you, Brains. Hopefully, Gordon will have some time so I can try them out soon."

Sally cleared her throat. "Maria, take your helmet off, dear. We need to get a picture."

Maria generally hated having her picture taken, but this suit was doing wild and crazy things to her self-esteem and for once, the idea was kind of appealing. She took off the helmet. Her unbound hair spilled over her shoulders. Should she put it back in the bun? It might help to know what this was for. "Why do you want a picture anyway?"

Brains explained, "Your helmet has c-comms, which means we'll need a holo-projector for your channel. There's room on the c-coffee table right next to Lady Penelope's." He pointed toward her picture frame.

She was going to have her picture in the lounge? Not even Brains had his picture in the lounge. Then again, he didn't wear his uniform very often. She was going to patrol the island every day. It made sense to have comms so she could call for help if ever there were kidnappers in the water again, but still, this was major. She stood tall and tried to copy Kayo's pose and expression: pleasant yet professional.

Sally took a picture with a tablet.

"Grandma, make two copies when you print that," Virgil said. "I want one for my nightstand."

Maria didn't want her nightstand to be left out. "Someone needs to print that one Gordon took a little while ago so I can have a picture of Virgil on my nightstand, too."

"Bubblegum head? Oh no. That picture needs to die a painful death. Actually, I think we need a picture of us together. Grandma?"

"Get over there next to her and smile!"


	32. Chapter 32

It wasn't long before life at Tracy Island returned to normal. Normal for them, anyway. Maria got her scuba certification, although why a live instructor was even necessary baffled her. Gordon didn't really have very much to teach that wasn't in the manual. He was super competent at what he did, just not quite as good in imparting his expertise. Then again, Maria realised she was probably biased about how teaching was supposed to work. She spent tons of her time working on shark visuals and coming up with interesting ways to present the information that catered to their individual learning styles, and inventing fun ways to review.

Gordon, on the other hand, gave her the scuba manual, which she studied voraciously and completely memorised. But then he acted surprised and maybe a bit affronted that she had even read it, like she had stolen his thunder or something. Why did he give her a manual if he didn't expect her to read it? He did try some conversational instructions, but it was almost all a rehash of what was in the book. Maria let him think this unnecessary review was 'teaching' because she was afraid of insulting him after he'd wanted so badly to be her instructor. The main thing he was good for was explaining the dive computer in greater detail because the book wasn't specific to any particular model and she wasn't that great with electronics to begin with.

He accompanied her on three dives before he finally declared she was fit to go solo. At first, Maria took longer than an hour to swim around the whole island because she was faster and more experienced with the above-water crawl stroke than the underwater frog stroke, and because she had fallen out of practice and lost fitness from the time she was sick. Fins made up for the slower strokes and as soon as she built up some better kicking muscles, she could complete the circuit in about the same time as before. The exercise was nearly the same, but the aesthetics were infinitely better now that she could see the underwater vista.

Her garden needed some serious rehabilitation after being neglected in her absence, but at least she was able to harvest the radishes she had planted the day she'd been kidnapped. Scott was happy at the harvest and told her so this time. She planted an entire package of radish seeds so the next harvest would be double in size.

Sally was growing steadily weaker and Maria started to worry that she would take a sharp turn or even pass away before she ever told her family. Beyond the fact Maria would be devastated by the loss herself, she would be stuck telling the family that she knew it was coming. Still, Maria just couldn't muster the courage to prod Sally about telling them. She had to know she was getting close and it was still not Maria's place to say it needed to be done.

Sally did, however, accept more help. She let Maria fold the laundry and she stopped trying to stand or take stairs by herself. To facilitate napping, a couch was set up in Jeff Tracy's rarely-used old study as it was on the same level as the lounge and didn't require Sally to take any stairs just to lie down for a while. Maria only did her swimming or her supply runs when Sally was napping or she was reasonably sure someone else would be around. Even then, she tried to keep her absences short.

Alan and Scott had taken  _Thunderbird 3_  to rescue a stranded crew of astronauts who were advance scouting for a new research base on Titan. Brains said they'd be gone nearly three weeks. Maria was just glad Virgil didn't have to go. She knew a long rescue like that was possible, but the thought of being separated from him for that long was not appealing at all. She could live without Paris and she could live with the fact most of their time together was interrupted for missions or the need for sleep, but the thought of not being able to share a kiss or a hug for over a week made her shudder. If it ever came to pass, she would put on her big-girl britches and make the best of it, but she definitely didn't look forward to it.

Kayo kept busy and didn't ever mention missing Alan, but it seemed to Maria that she wasn't quite herself without him around. They weren't officially a couple, but they did hang out together quite a bit. Just because they didn't call each other girlfriend and boyfriend didn't mean they weren't close. In an attempt to give Kayo a little distraction, Maria took another stab at making sushi. It didn't look like the perfect pictures she'd seen in the how-to articles, but it was better than the first disastrous try and Kayo didn't care what it looked like.

"I would have eaten those first ones you made too, if you had let me," she said. "I love this stuff. Don't ever throw any away." She wolfed down more sushi in an hour than Maria had ever seen her eat in an entire day. It was like an optical illusion, seemingly impossible for her to physically fit that volume of food in her tiny body.

"I'm just glad it tastes better than it looks," Maria said with a chuckle. She preferred her fish well-done, thanks. But as long as Kayo liked it and didn't mind its less-than-perfect appearance, she'd be happy to make it for her.

The next day, everyone was out on missions when Maria returned from her underwater perimeter patrol. Sally had just awoken from her nap in the study, but had not tried to sit up yet. Maria helped her up and took her to the restroom before delivering her to her favoured spot in the lounge. Gordon and Virgil were very busy saving people from an underwater hotel collapse in the Maldives. Both of their holo-projections wore serious expressions. Maria couldn't tell exactly what had happened, but they had their hands full.

Kayo appeared to be checking out some kind of abandoned chemical plant, looking for clues to The Alchemist's whereabouts, no doubt. Her holo-image was doing a lot of sneaking around in the shadows and not talking, but it must have been dangerous enough that it was not a good idea to just shut off her comms.

The beep alert from  _Thunderbird 5_  sounded and the eye lenses in John's portrait lit up, but the holo-image projected into the lounge next to Kayo wasn't John. It was one of the speaking units for EOS with its ring of little lights. A female computer voice said, "John requires assistance. He lost consciousness and is not responding. Something happened when he opened his lunch." Her camera zoomed in on a fast-food cardboard clam packaging, sitting on a table. Inside was an untouched cheeseburger and a small silver egg tucked in the box's corner.

Maria didn't wait for anyone to ask for her input. "That looks like the canister The Alchemist used to give me that virus."

Sally and Brains both gasped.

"I didn't have my glasses the first time I saw it. Kayo, can you see the transmissions EOS is sending right now? You can nod if it's dangerous to speak."

"Yes," Kayo said in a whisper. "I see it. That's exactly like the one I gave to Detective Jim. He said the aerosol dispensing mechanism could be on a timer, triggered by motion, or even by light or sound."

"Thanks, Kayo. EOS, did John just now open his food?" Maria asked. Virgil had sent the care package up several hours ago, before her swim.

"John has not had time to eat since it arrived. It was unopened until approximately two minutes ago."

"Did that egg make a high pitched noise like a mosquito buzz and then emit a gas?"

"Affirmative. Shall I show you the recording?"

"No, thank you, EOS. Scan  _Thunderbird 5_  for airborne toxins or infectious agents, please. If you find any, compare against the virus The Alchemist used last time, which is designated Vektor-371. It may be under the Cyrillic spelling of Vektor in the WHO database." Maria realised she was probably butting in on Brains' territory here to tell EOS what to do, but she could apologise later if he was offended.

"Scanning... positive match for Vektor-371." The electron microscopy image of the icosahedron capsid virus spun slowly in holo-projection.

It was troubling that John had passed out so quickly. Was the virus more virulent in zero-gravity, did The Alchemist somehow 'upgrade' it, or was John simply more susceptible to its dangers? Dr. Harrison had warned that they had to treat it as a serious threat. "No other toxins in the air?"

"Negative, Miss Anderson. Carbon dioxide levels well within normal limits. No other infectious agents, not even a common cold."

"Is the Vektor-371 evolved or mutated in any way?"

"The match is 99 point 97 percent to the form that you were exposed to."

"Good, then I already have immunity." Maria turned to Brains. " _Thunderbird 3_  is too far away, right?"

"Correct. They're not due back for 72 hours. Speeding up might be possible, but even at maximum speed, they're more than 24 hours away."

"John can't wait that long," Maria said. "EOS, is the space elevator available?"

"It is currently docked with  _Thunderbird 5_."

"Was the airlock sealed when the silver egg released the gas? We can't use it if the virus has shared  _Thunderbird 5'_ s atmosphere or it will contaminate Tracy Island."

"The airlock was sealed. The space elevator is free of contamination. But I have no way to get John into it to send him down to you."

"I don't want John to come to Tracy Island or he could contaminate it the same way. Will you let me come up there to help John?"

"I'll g-get you a biohazard suit," Brains said quietly.

Maria laid a gentle hand on his arm to stop him. "No need. Since the virus hasn't mutated, I already have immunity. In fact, if you give me a blood collection kit, I'll give John some of my antibodies. I'm O-negative—universal donor type. It's even better than a vaccine. My immune system has already done all the work."

"John is O-negative too," Sally remarked absently. There was some worry in her voice, but she wasn't panicked.

"Sending the space elevator down to Tracy Island," EOS announced. "E.T.A. four minutes."

"EOS, you understand that I'm a nurse and I'm coming to  _help_  John, right?" She'd heard rumors that EOS wasn't exactly friendly to strangers. The last thing she needed was a hostile AI impeding her efforts.

"Affirmative. Please come help John." EOS sounded more worried than Sally, which Maria found a little odd, but at least that meant the AI would cooperate.

"I'll take you to  _Thunderbird 5'_ s docking station and get you a m-med kit with blood collection materials," Brains said, leading the way out of the lounge and down to the hangar.

"Thank you, Brains." She waved at Sally as she hurried out. "Don't worry. John will be all right."

Virgil's voice came over comms, short and to the point: "Be careful up there."

"I will be," she called back, already out of the room and no time to chat.

As they descended the stairs, Maria spoke to Brains. "Sorry about taking over. I hope I didn't step on any toes."

"No apologies n-necessary. We're lucky you were b-back from swimming." He handed her a medical kit in what appeared to be a metal suitcase with the IR logo.

"Am I going to be all right without a space suit?"

"You should be f-fine. The elevator is pressurised and so is  _Thunderbird 5_. You'd only need a suit to g-go outside the station."

"Good. I can't give blood in a space suit."

The space elevator arrived and its mooring claw clamped to the docking hitch. The hatch opened with a small hiss of air. Maria ducked inside, stowed the med kit, and waved goodbye to Brains.

As soon as her butt hit the reclined seat, the hatch closed again.

"Please fasten the safety belt, Miss Anderson, as I will be retracting the cable at the highest possible speed," EOS said.

She fastened the belt, but that 'highest possible speed' threat was a bit disconcerting. "In case you haven't noticed, EOS, I'm wearing simple cotton scrubs, not a flight suit. If I'm exposed to too much G-force, I will pass out and then I'm no good to John."

"Understood. Employing all human safety protocols and not cargo settings."

"Thank you." The elevator swayed slightly as it released and then it started its ascent, slowly at first, but accelerating rapidly. Maria felt her body weight press heavily into the recliner. She closed her eyes so she wouldn't see the visual clues that would trigger her discomfort with heights. It wasn't quite acrophobia, but it would be a distraction and she couldn't afford one now.

It occurred to her that this was all her fault.  _She_  had told The Alchemist that John liked cheeseburgers and that Virgil indulged his cravings when he sent care packages. True, she had never told him where John's favourite burger joint was because she didn't know, but if Virgil was taking  _Thunderbird 2_  to fetch them, surely someone had taken notice of the huge green plane landing there regularly. It's not like Virgil could discreetly use a drive-through window. All The Alchemist had to do was bribe a burger-flipper to slip that virus capsule into the next double cheeseburger ordered by anyone in an International Rescue uniform, and he wipes out  _Thunderbird 5_ , and if he were lucky,  _Thunderbird 3_  and Tracy Island too in a cascade of logical events. Only the fact that  _Thunderbird 3_  was away on a long mission and the space elevator had been cut-off from contamination had thwarted his evil little plan.

Of course, Maria was planning some thwarting of her own. Her immune system had been cranking out antibodies for over a month now. John might need an overnight observation at the CDC to make sure she gave him enough of her little assassination proteins, since she was going to have to make a guess at how much blood to give him, but he wouldn't need to be put in a drug-induced coma or left to cough his lungs out for days on end. Her antibodies should knock out his infection before it even got a good start.

Or so she hoped. It still bothered her that John had passed out so quickly. No matter how much he could have breathed in from the egg, the virus should have needed time to incubate. Was he possibly immunocompromised because of lack of sleep or some other environmental condition specific to the space station? She was already brainstorming preliminary ideas for how to get him back to Earth for medical treatment, but she needed to make sure there wasn't something else going on here that could threaten others.

Unless The Alchemist had tried Vektor-371 on someone else they didn't know about, she was the only one who could do this.


	33. Chapter 33

EOS did all the work docking the space elevator with  _Thunderbird 5_ , which was a good thing because Maria had no clue how to accomplish the task, and probably no skill in attaining it even if she knew. The hatch hissed and door parts slid and then the station's metal airlock irised open. Another mobile sensing unit was visible on the ceiling just inside. "Follow me," EOS's voice said before sliding on a track overhead.

Maria discovered she was weightless as soon as the seatbelt released. The walls were close in the lift, so it wasn't hard to use them to push away, grab the med kit, and float out the door, but it was annoying not to be able to kick or scull, like you could in water, to make yourself move or change direction. Without a wall to push from, she ended up floating aimlessly. It wasn't long before she could no longer see the mobile unit. "EOS! You're getting too far ahead. I don't have a nice track to move on."

"John has no problem navigating very efficiently without need of tracks," her computer voice gloated from out of sight.

 _Of course he doesn't. He lives here!_  "EOS, you don't have to point out all the ways John is superior to me. I surrender on all counts, all right? He's the Space King and I'm but a lowly Space Peasant here in his Space Castle. I'm not trying to dethrone the king; I'm trying to help him! If you get too far ahead, I'll get lost. That won't help John." She fumbled around, finding ways to bounce obliquely off the walls, thinking how much she felt like a human cueball.

EOS returned from whence she had disappeared, gliding smoothly on the track. "Try to push up and grab onto my sensing unit. You can ride with me until we hit the gravity ring, where John is."

Why didn't she suggest that to begin with? Maria had to bounce a few times to get the right angle to reach it with one hand. The med kit was as weightless as she was, but the handle would not allow her to hold both it and the sensing unit. She held the top of the boxy unit with her free hand, but her grip wasn't the best. At least she wouldn't splat on the floor if EOS zoomed off and left her in the dust. But the AI moved smoothly enough that Maria didn't lose her grip. A long corridor and then a couple of turns and they reached the gravity ring, where Maria let out a huge sigh of relief. She could walk here.

The relief was short-lived when the transparent floor rotated around to show her just how far from the Earth they were. Beautiful view, but it made the soles of her feet feel tingly and sweaty.  _No more looking down_ , Maria chided herself. She caught sight of John and ran to where he was lying. He was a little pale but his lips weren't blue, so he was probably getting enough oxygen. She dropped the med kit, knelt next to him and grabbed both shoulders, shaking enough to wake him if he were merely sleeping. "John! John, can you hear me?" she said loudly. Not a yell, but louder than her normal voice.

His eyelids moved a little, but he didn't open his eyes. He groaned as if talking in his sleep. It sounded like, "Bad fries," and then he lost what little consciousness he had gained. He was acting like he'd been drugged.

Maria stood to look at the table where he had abandoned lunch. The burger looked untouched, but she couldn't see any kind of container that held french fries. She hit the comms button on John's sash. "International Rescue, this is Maria. Virgil, are you listening?"

"I'm here. How's John?" Virgil asked.

"I don't know yet. Did you send John any other food with the cheeseburger? French fries, chips, or crisps, possibly?"

"No. Just a double cheeseburger with extra pickles. John's not much of a fry guy."

"EOS," Maria said. "Please play back the recording of John from the time he sat down to eat until he passed out. And show Brains too."

"Complying," EOS said and the recording began, projected holographically in mid-air.

The camera angle wasn't optimal for studying food, but it looked to Maria like there had been a few stray french fries positioned on top of the little silver egg in the burger's clam shell box. John grabbed them and popped them in his mouth. He made a face which suggested they didn't taste that great, but evidently not bad enough to spit out either. He either didn't see the silver egg, or he thought it just a bit of food wrapping foil and unimportant. He picked up his burger and smiled at it the way Alan smiled deviously at his tacos.

The egg produced that high-pitched mosquito hum, then it hissed with the release of the gas. John noticed the sounds and set down the burger to examine the egg, but no sooner had he set the burger down but he started to sway. One hand clutched at his head while the other caught hold of the table edge, slowing his descent enough that he didn't appear to have a concussive event when his head met the floor. His last word was a choked, "EOS." The recording ended.

"There were a couple of fries in the burger clam shell, probably put there to hide that virus canister," Maria said, thinking out loud, and hoping Brains was listening. "But The Alchemist loves poisons, right? What if the fries were poisoned with something else, something that acts faster than a virus? Maybe the virus was intended for  _Thunderbird 3_  when it came to rescue John, but the poison was to make sure John couldn't warn anyone ahead of time, like I did. EOS, can you scan John's blood as he is or do you need me to draw some into a vial?"

"I can scan without needing removal," she declared. Maria could have sworn Space Princess EOS sounded smug about it. A plane of strong light beamed from the mobile sensory unit and passed over John's body. "Scan complete. Toxin identified." Rather than read the convoluted chemical name for the feeble-minded Space Peasants whose inferior intellect would never understand her, she displayed said name (it was at least 75 letters long) along with its molecular structure and all the other scan data in a holo-image readout.

Maria drew a deep breath, trying to figure things out. She didn't want to make a stab at pronouncing that mouthful of chemical nomenclature either, but she could deduce a lot from the chains of atoms and the overall shape of the molecule. "Okay, so he was supposed to stay conscious long enough to call for help, assuring that  _Thunderbird 3_  would have come if it wasn't so far away right now. His liver should have broken it down and detoxified it. But he passed out before he called for help and his liver isn't clearing it. Why?"

"Look at the c-concentration in his blood, Maria," Brains said. "It seems abnormally high to me."

Maria scanned the readout EOS was still projecting in mid-air. No wonder that french fry tasted bad. The concentration was high enough that it would have poisoned him even if he spit it out. Swallowing made it an overdose. "That  _bastard_ ," she swore under her breath. She quickly added, "The Alchemist, not John," so that EOS wouldn't start plotting her 'accidental' death-by-spacing for blaspheming the Space King.

There was a pharmaceutical antidote that might have helped, but there wasn't any in the med kit and Maria wasn't a doctor and couldn't prescribe drugs anyway. Liver dialysis would have worked too, but they didn't have the equipment and getting to the CDC would take time. John might not have that much time.  _If only we could just get him some liver support..._

She eyed the blood scan data again. Sally had said John was O-negative and the scan confirmed it. The solution occurred to her in a flash of inspiration. She rummaged through the med kit again.  _Yes!_  There was more than one blood collection kit. She started pulling out what she needed and simultaneously talking to Brains.

"Brains, is a standard spacesuit close to P4-level protection? Since  _Thunderbird 3_  is gone, I'm thinking we should call  _Global 1_  and ask Captain O'Bannon for help in getting John to the CDC. But  _Thunderbird 5_  is contaminated. We can't expose anyone else to that virus without protection."

"Yes, a spacesuit should be sufficient p-protection against the virus, but we should warn Captain O'Bannon of the risk and tell her n-not to remove her helmet while inside  _Thunderbird 5_."

"She probably should keep it on even after that. We don't know how contagious John is right now. Many diseases are spread because people pass it on before they even know they're sick. He has some of those little buggers in his lungs. If just one gets out..."

"Understood."

"Do you think maybe you could call  _Global 1?_  I'm more worried about that poison than the virus at the moment. I have an idea that may work, but I need to concentrate on my treatment and not talking to Ridley."

"I'll take c-care of it," Brains promised.

"Thanks, Brains." Maria waved through his holo-image to cut the connection, very glad he hadn't questioned what she was about to do.

"EOS, can you display John's medical history and background information, please?"

"Affirmative." The information was displayed immediately, replacing the blood scan data. John had no history of hepatitis or anything that would defer him from giving blood.

Maria donned surgical gloves and laid out all her tools, but she doubted she could just start poking John with needles without Space Princess wanting to know what she was doing and getting all protective. She'd have to explain first.

"EOS, the poison that The Alchemist used on John is normally handled by the liver, but he got too much of it, and his liver isn't getting the job done by itself. Because John and I are the same blood type, I'm going to set us up to share circulation so it will dilute the concentration and get  _two_  livers working on that poison."

Maria swabbed her inner elbow with an isopropyl alcohol towelette, noticing the proximity to the triple hexagon branding scars that The Alchemist had left her with after her first encounter.  _You're not getting anyone from International Rescue as long as I'm around, you sadistic bastard_. She sucked in her breath and jammed that diabolical 16 gauge needle into the vein, biting back an expletive over the pain. Those donor needles were big enough to drive a bus through. She taped it down and placed the collection bag on a chair so it would be level with her heart. The bag started to fill with deep red liquid, mixing with the anti-coagulant inside.

"If I pass out, just make sure Captain O'Bannon doesn't disturb all the needles and tubes I'm about to set up. Can you do that for John?"

"Affirmative," EOS said.

She'd originally planned to poke John in the arm, but they didn't have any good way to hold the blood collection bags up. Their hearts and body positions would be doing all the work, so the lower-to-the-floor leg would work better for receiving. Maria had to cut John's uniform leg with some scissors from the kit, then she swabbed a vein and stuck him with the recipient needle. She opened the tube's valve to let her blood flow from the collection bag into John's leg. Her blood would supply antibodies as well as dilute the poison. She continued her instructions to EOS even as she worked. "After we're gone, you should expel all the atmosphere in  _Thunderbird 5_  and the elevator, which I exposed to the contaminated air when I came in. The vacuum of space and freezing temperatures should sterilise everything so it's no longer a biohazard, so it will be safe for John to come back."

Maria closed the med kit case and shoved it under John's shoulders to raise his torso so his heart would be a little higher, hoping to make gravity work in their favour. It was a good thing they were in the gravity ring part of  _Thunderbird 5_.  She cut open his sleeve and repeated the blood donation steps so that he would be filling a new donation bag from his arm that would then empty into her leg. That way, her liver could help process his blood and both of them would be accepting as fast as they gave so there was no limit to how much blood they could exchange. She swabbed her leg and stuck herself again, then opened the valve to let John's blood flow into her veins.

"You're sure John is going to be all right?" EOS asked, her voice passing for the human equivalent of fearful.

"I hope so, since I basically just tied my life to his."

"Maria!" Virgil interjected, his head and shoulders popping up in a hover just over John's sash. He was still in uniform and holding a yoke, so presumably still on his mission. "Don't risk  _your_  life to save John!"

She was surprised to discover she had been broadcasting anything on comms, but she was ready for his objection. "Says the man who risks  _his_  life for complete strangers multiple times a day, seven days a week."

He didn't have an answer to that but she could see the concern etched deep in the lines of his face.

"It's okay, Virgil," she said gently, "I saw the concentration of the poison. Two healthy livers should be able to knock it down."

_"Should?"_

Truthfully, she felt their chances were about 70%. Maria wasn't brave like Scott, who'd probably risk his life for someone he'd never met or someone he didn't especially like for a 20% chance or less. But this was Sally's grandson and Virgil's brother in jeopardy. The fact she had only met him on comms before today was immaterial. She wasn't about to stand by and do nothing when she had a better-than-average chance to save him. She was starting to feel a little light-headed and sleepy. She replied with a groggy voice, "Well, if it doesn't work, you can insist they revoke my medical licence."

"You don't have a medical licence, sweetheart. You dropped out of medical school, remember? No one is expecting you to be a doctor here."

"Oh good, then you can't sue me for malpractice. I'm covered under Good Samaritan." Maria was thinking a nap might be a good idea, so she quickly checked all the tubing to make sure everything was working right. Her donor bag was filling faster than John's. That probably wasn't optimal. She had to get everything in order before she dozed off.

"EOS, speed up the gravity ring a little, would you? John's heart rate is a little low since he's unconscious and we need a little extra push to help his blood flow into my veins. Let's try one and a half Gs to start."

"Accelerating gravity to one hundred fifty percent Earth-normal," EOS announced.

The extra G-force made Maria feel heavy and therefore even more sleepy. She was probably also inheriting some of John's sleepiness via their shared circulation. Maybe they could both just sleep this off. Her eyelids drooped lazily.

"Stay with me," Virgil urged.

"Not going anywhere, too heavy to move. Just going to take a little nap."

"Why don't you stay awake and uh... tell me about sharks." His words were laced with a quiet desperation. He was trying to keep her talking.

"You're not interested in sharks, my love. That's Gordon and Alan's thing." She yawned deeply.

There was a static crackle and then Alan's holo-image popped in next to Virgil's. "Hey, Maria, I'm so bored way out here with nothing to do, millions of kilometres away from Earth. Why don't you tell  _me_  about sharks?"

 _Sheesh, how big is this party line?_ she wondered in a twilight haze.

Virgil nodded vigorously, his facial expression oozing gratitude for Alan's timely request.

Maria somehow found enough energy to spout off a little nugget of shark trivia off the top of her head: "Did you know nurse sharks don't have to keep swimming all the time? They have spiracles to force water over their gills, which means they can stop swimming and still be able to breathe while they rest. I'm going to be a nurse shark—er, shark nurse—and take a rest now. Be safe out there, Alan." She waved goodbye, expending as little energy as possible in the movement.

"Would you stay awake if I sang to you?" Virgil threw in as a last ditch effort.

"Maybe, if it's not a lullaby." She might have been stretching the truth there. She might doze off regardless. He would forgive her, wouldn't he?

"Sorry to interrupt," EOS said, "but you might be interested to know Captain O'Bannon's shuttlecraft has docked with  _Thunderbird 5_  and she will be here any moment."

"Yes!" Virgil said triumphantly.

A puffy sky-blue and white spacesuit with red trim and a fishbowl helmet floated through the doorway and then landed with a bit of a thud in the ring, evidently not prepared for the extra half-G. "Anyone call for an ambulance? Ridley O'Bannon at your service."

Maria sighed softly.  _There goes my nap_. "Maria Anderson. I'm John's grandmother's home health aide. Thanks for coming."

"Are you kidding? John's saved my space station and my life, several times. It's about time I got the chance to return the favour."

"I hope you can land in Atlanta. We need to go to the Center for Disease Control because of the virus John's been exposed to."

"Already been briefed. Not a problem. Can you walk?"

"I probably can, but you'll need to carry John and I'm going to have to stay very close because of all these tubes connecting us. How much do you want the gravity reduced so he won't be too heavy?"

O'Bannon gave him a critical look. "I can probably do it at forty percent. Light enough to handle his weight, but still lets me touch the floor and get traction."

"Hear that, EOS? Forty percent," Maria repeated. She reflected that she wouldn't dare order Space Princess around like this if it wasn't for the fact John's life depended on it.

"Affirmative," EOS said. "Slowing to forty percent."

Maria forced herself to standing, which was decidedly easier in the lower gravity, but still a little tricky with all the blood-filled tubing that could be tangled or pulled out. No way she wanted to have to do those venipunctures over again. Though still feeling tired, she could walk in this lighter gravity as long as she took it slow. O'Bannon picked John up and he stirred to a semi-consciousness. He stared into her face and rasped, "Ridley?"

"Hi, John. I'm cancelling our handball game later today. You're going to be busy elsewhere. Hold still. You've got needles in you. Let me do the rescuing this time."

Maria could have sworn she saw him smile before he lapsed back into unconsciousness.


	34. Chapter 34

The passenger seats on Ridley's shuttle were not as close together as Maria would have liked, but at least the reclining angle was good, or it would be, once they got to a place where gravity mattered again. Maria would have preferred to stand next to John's seat but Ridley didn't like the idea.

"Re-entry into the atmosphere is a rough ride. I need you in a seat with the safety harness on."

Maria lifted the coils of blood-filled tubing and gestured to the nearest seat, which was almost two metres away. "Do you think it's close enough for this to reach?"

She frowned. "I don't know, but let's try. Standing there could get you knocked clear into the engine room and that wouldn't be good for you  _or_  John."

True. Maria moved slowly toward the closest passenger seat. It soon became clear that it wouldn't work as it was, but Ridley saw a solution. She swivelled the second seat around 180° so that it was facing the other way. Because each connection was arm to leg, the tubing didn't have to reach as far. The slack was just enough for everything to stay connected. Maria eased into the seat facing the aft end of the ship and buckled in.

"Maybe I should make John fly backwards, since he's out cold," Ridley remarked.

Maria shook her head. "Not worth wasting the time to fix it now. I don't need the scenic tour. Just get us to Atlanta."

Ridley smiled and nodded. "You got it, Doc."

"Oh, I'm not a doctor. Just an LVN."

"Close enough." From the sound of it, Ridley strapped herself into the pilot seat and started flipping toggles.

Maria felt the shuttle disengage from the docking port. She couldn't see out the forward window, but there were some smaller ones on the sides where she could see  _Thunderbird 5_  drifting out of view.

"So, L-V-N Maria," Ridley called back conversationally, "you're going out with one of John's brothers, right? I met Alan once. Is it Alan?"

Was Ridley trying to keep her awake too? "No, not Alan. Virgil." She couldn't help smiling.

"Virgil flies the big green  _Thunderbird_ , right?"

" _Thunderbird 2_ , yes."

"Did you know he flew it all the way out to  _Space Hub 1_  once?"

Wait. Virgil could have come to pick them up? Maybe Ridley was just trying to see if she was paying attention. "Really? I didn't think  _Thunderbird 2_  could go into space."

"It was a one-time thing. I heard he had a really rough re-entry and only made it out because he literally  _refrigerated_  his hull with some industrial-strength coolant. He's a bit of a legend out here for even trying a stunt like that in a cargo plane. We may have a bit of a bumpy ride today, but we'll be just fine." And no sooner had she said that but the pressure of the atmosphere began to rumble against the shuttle. It was a lot like riding over a bunch of train tracks in a bus with terrible shock absorbers.

Maria considered that she probably should be nervous over this, but she didn't feel it. Maybe it was better to not be looking out the front when the heat shield was doing its thing. She was a lot more concerned about the poison she was sharing with John than whether a shuttle would make it through the atmosphere like thousands of spacecraft did every single day. The drowsiness was wearing off, which she thought was probably a good thing. She looked over at John. Because they faced opposite directions, she could see his face. His eyelids twitched as the jostling got more pronounced, and after a few false starts, his eyes opened. The intensity of his eyes' emerald green colour was a bit of a surprise. Maria had only seen his eyes over holo-projection, where they washed out to nearly brown. His wall portrait wasn't much help either because of the hidden projector lenses and faded pigments. She had known they were green, just not  _that_  green.

"Hi, John. Nice to finally meet you in person. Don't move. You've had a bit of a bad day."

"Maria? Where am I?"

"Hey, John," Ridley's voice yelled back. It didn't sound like she turned her head. Maria was glad of that. She should concentrate on flying; she could chat with John later.

"You're on Captain O'Bannon's shuttle," Maria said. "We're going to the CDC in Atlanta because you got exposed to the same virus The Alchemist tried to kill me off with. Don't worry though. I'm giving you plenty of antibodies to take care of the little buggers. You shouldn't have to stay too long for that. The bad fries you ate were actually more concerning. Maybe next time, spit them out?" She hesitated, but then she decided she'd earned the right to say this: "Or how about letting  _me_  cook for you from now on? At least until The Alchemist is behind bars. I can make cheeseburgers or most anything you like."

He chuckled and said, "F.A.B." before drawing a deep breath and closing his eyes again.

As soon as they came to a stop on the ground, someone in a yellow P4 biohazard suit barged in, took one look at the patients and the tubes connecting them, and launched into a tirade. "Just what in the name of Holy Hippocrates did you think you were doing, Miss Anderson?" a familiar voice growled at her. He yanked the needle out of her arm before he even said hello or identified himself. Not that it mattered. Maria recognised his voice. He applied a bit of rolled gauze to the spot and bent her elbow to hold pressure on it.

"I—"

"Don't answer that. You obviously saved this man's life. But that was one enormous risk to take. This nice astronaut could have been delivering two corpses to my front door. Do you know how much paperwork that would have been?"

Maria smirked at him. "Nice to see you again, too, Dr. Harrison. This is Virgil's brother, John Tracy. I take it Brai—er, Mr. Hackenbacker—briefed you?"

John was wide awake now, watching and listening with a somewhat horrified look on his face, but keeping quiet.

Dr. Harrison removed the needle from her leg, his movements quite brusque, Maria thought. "Yes and I thought he surely had to be mistaken with what he was telling me. Giving him some of your antibodies was reasonable. I'd have done the same thing. But taking in blood you knew was poisoned and completely sharing circulation? Insane! Reckless!" He shook his head reproachfully, glared, and frowned at her before finishing the bandage on her leg and then abruptly turning his attention to John.

The doctor's bedside manner improved considerably and he was gentler and smoother when he pulled the needles out of John's veins, but he didn't stop lecturing. "You are one incredibly lucky man. I hope you know that. Your non-corporeal AI called for help. Your grandmother's home health aide happened to have the right blood type and just enough medical knowledge to save your life but not enough sense to realise she never should have attempted it. You also happened to be handball buddies with this very capable astronaut who could come fetch you from that isolated spinning top in space and bring you to us without spreading the virus. Talk about winning the ultimate lottery."

"I owed him a couple," Ridley put in.

Harrison lowered his voice to a conspiratorial tone, "Truthfully, there's not much left for us to do for you after all that. We'll run some tests and make sure, but you'll probably go home tomorrow."

"Thank you, Doctor," John said. What else could he say? He hadn't had a choice in what everyone had done while he was unconscious.

Harrison turned to Ridley. "Your shuttle will need to be decontaminated before you can have her back. I see you kept your helmet on, so you should be fine. We have to make sure all the air and surfaces in here get sterilised. I'll get a team on it."

"Fair enough. Can I stay with John?"

"You don't have to—" John protested.

"Don't have to  _what,_  exactly?" Ridley retorted, her voice chastising. "I'm not going to ask my dad to come pick me up when he's in Seattle, twenty-six hundred miles away, and my only other home is up on  _Global 1_ , where I can't go until my shuttle is cleared."

Maria felt certain Ridley would be welcome on Tracy Island for as long as she needed to be on Earth, but Maria wasn't about to deprive Ridley and John of the opportunity for closeness like she'd had with Virgil while she was at Vektor. Besides, she had no idea if  _she_  was going to be tested before they let her go, nor when one of the IR pilots might be free to come pick her up. She couldn't offer Ridley a ride when it was so uncertain when it might happen, not to mention, an invitation to Tracy Island should really come from John.

"Never mind," John said awkwardly.

"Good," Ridley said, smiling at him, then she turned to shoot a covert wink at Maria.

"Of course you're welcome to stay with the patient," Dr. Harrison said.

They put Maria and John in the American version of a biocontainment room, this one with two beds and lots of yellow-suited people and none of the red-suited ones. They didn't make either of them remove their clothes, acting like this would be an emergency room visit rather than being admitted for something serious. Maria felt badly that John didn't get a private room so he and Ridley could get some quality time, but she couldn't muster too much sympathy when the whole reason for that was because John wasn't going to get nearly as sick as she had been. It was near midnight in Atlanta, so going home the next day was mere hours away.

They did scans and ran tests. John came up negative for Vektor-371 from the very first test they ran.  _Hooray for kick-ass antibodies!_  All the workers removed their bulky biohazard suits and Ridley could finally take off her helmet. She also removed the black and grey head covering that Maria always thought looked like someone stuck a headset mic on a water polo cap. Ridley had a bad case of hat-hair, but John didn't seem to care. In fact, it looked to Maria like he found the change attractive.

Dr. Harrison brought in some of that toxicological antidote Maria had thought of, but not had available to use on  _Thunderbird 5_. He reluctantly admitted they probably would have survived without it at this point, but it was better to be on the safe side. One pill each and they were done with treatment. "I have you scheduled for blood tests in six hours, and assuming they're normal, then you should be good to go."

John's uniform was ruined from Maria cutting it open to stick him with needles, but he still had his sash on, so he called home to give a quick update. Everyone was very relieved to hear his voice. Maria hopped off her bed and got close enough to be seen through his comms camera. She waved and smiled to prove she was all right before Virgil or Sally had any chance to worry. Poor Sally, left without help again. Maria felt a little bad about that, but she knew the alternative would have involved mourning for her grandson, and that was so much worse that it wasn't even on the same scale. She didn't offer any apology for leaving her boss in the lurch this time.

"We'll let you know when we've been cleared to go, but probably in six hours or so," John said. "Oh, and if Ridley's ship isn't fully decontaminated yet, she'll be coming with us too." He cast a glance at Ridley and she nodded.

"F.A.B. John," Sally said. "Thanks for calling."

Maria walked back to her own bed, closing the examination curtain that divided the room as she went. "I'm going to crash. Feel free to chat amongst yourselves without me."

"Okay," Ridley said. "Rest well." She had a chair, but it wasn't a nice recliner-sleeper like Virgil had been given at Vektor. Maybe the Russians had at least one advantage over the Americans after all. Or maybe, if John was as interested in Ridley as he appeared, he'd offer to share the bed with her. Maria shook her head to banish her interfering thoughts. It was none of her business what John and Ridley did on their side of the curtain.

"Maria?"

"Yes, John?" She had just sat on her bed and didn't try to go back to face him.

"Did you really not know?"

"Know what? That I was taking a risk to share circulation? Yes, I knew. Dr. Harrison can chew me out all he likes, but given the same circumstances, I'd do it all again."

"I didn't think you did it out of ignorance. Thank you."

"You're very welcome."


	35. Chapter 35

The blood results came back around 0700, Atlanta time, and Harrison released them, but Ridley's shuttle wasn't ready yet. John called Tracy Island and Virgil took the call. It was probably getting close to midnight back home, but he looked wide awake. "I'm on my way," he said.

Nothing had ever looked quite as welcome as  _Thunderbird 2_ alighting into the CDC parking lot and setting down next to Ridley's shuttle. Maria tore out of the building to meet Virgil, who descended in the fore elevator. He opened his arms and she launched herself into them. The embrace and accompanying kiss was epic. Any bystanders might have thought he was returning from a six month tour of duty in a war zone or something.

John and Ridley caught up, having taken a leisurely stroll from the CDC building rather than sprinting to keep up with Maria. Although not wanting the reunion to end, Maria didn't want to be rude either. She let go of Virgil so he could greet the others.

"Captain Ridley O'Bannon, this is my brother, Virgil Tracy," John said.

Ridley extended her hand and Virgil shook it.

"Looks like you rescued my brother  _and_  my girlfriend," Virgil said. "Thank you."

"Oh, I didn't do anything but drive the ambulance," she replied modestly.

Virgil's eyes flashed from Ridley's shuttle back to her. "That's one fine ambulance you got there."

She chuckled, looking up at  _Thunderbird 2_. "Yours isn't half bad either."

The flight home went quickly. It was late on Tracy Island, so everyone went straight to bed. After getting Ridley settled in a guest room next to Maria's, John met his grandmother in the hallway and said he was taking the space elevator back up to  _Thunderbird 5_. 

Sally crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. "Absolutely not. Alan and Scott pushed the ion engines to 98% just to get home faster because they were worried about you. They're due back in the morning and they deserve to see you before you go running off again. Once they're here, I'm calling a family meeting that you need to be present for.  _Personally_ , not as a hologram." She lowered her voice because they were in the hall and presumably, Sally didn't want Captain O'Bannon to overhear the next part. "Besides, Ridley is  _your_  guest on Tracy Island and you're not leaving while she's here."

He sighed. "I guess you're right, Grandma."

Sally resumed her normal voice. "Go down to the lounge and check in with EOS. Show her you're okay. Tell her you wanted to come back but other people wouldn't let you. Tell her it was doctors or tell her it was me, but don't you dare blame it on Ridley. I'm willing to bet EOS will fall all over her circuits to show you how completely she's got everything under control in your absence."

"F.A.B." John sounded a little less wounded realising Sally had a point about EOS. He started down the hall toward the stairs.

Maria felt a little badly for eavesdropping, but they had chosen to chat in the hall right next to her door, the door she always left open. She hadn't seen sleeping quarters on her trip to the space station, but she'd only seen a fraction of _Thunderbird 5_. Did John normally sleep in zero-g? If so, the thought of sleeping in gravity might have sounded less comfortable and restful than it did to normal Earth-bound people. Maybe he just wanted a good night's sleep. Or maybe all the rumours about John and Ridley were just that: rumours. Maybe they were content with just playing handball.

The next morning, Sally was not her usual chipper self. She said good morning but her heart wasn't in it. "You know why I called the family meeting, right?"

"You're going to tell them about the Truflun's, aren't you?"

"I have to. I've waited too long already."

"Do you want me to be there?"

"Of course. You're just as much part of the family as Brains and Kayo."

Maria wasn't sure that was true, but even if it was, this news would shake everything up and afterwards, nothing would be certain. She nodded in silence as she helped Sally stand. "Is the meeting before or after breakfast?"

"It's whenever Scott and Alan get here."

"Then I'm thinking cinnamon rolls, fruit, and some mini-quiches. Finger food so everyone can eat while you talk."

"Or we could talk in the dining room and eat whatever we want," Sally said with a smile.

"Okay, what do you want to eat then?"

"Oh, your menu sounded great. I just thought it might be easier to move people to the food than food to the people."

"It's no trouble to carry platters upstairs if we get everyone to help. Softer seats and good food won't change the bad news, but at least they won't make it worse."

"You've got a point."

Maria had some homemade sweet dough already made, rolled with cinnamon, and refrigerated. It only needed to be cut into rolls and given a final rise before baking. She did that first so the rolls would rise as she made the mini-quiches. Pie crust was mixed in less than a minute, rolled thin, and cut with a cookie cutter. She placed the dough circles in a muffin pan to make little cup shapes. Then scrambled eggs and cheese went in, followed by small bits of meat and more cheese. She made half of them sausage and half ham, mainly because she didn't know any of John's preferences. It wasn't often he could share a meal with his family and she wanted to make sure he would find something he liked. Virgil would no doubt polish off any of the quiche leftovers.

"What should we do about Ridley?" Maria asked Sally. It was doubtful Sally wanted someone she had just met to sit in on such a sensitive family meeting.

"How about we set her up with food and some entertainment in her room?" Sally had a rather devious smile when she said this.

"Why do I worry about what you mean by 'entertainment'?"

"Oh,  _you_  don't have to worry, but John will be thoroughly embarrassed. Just childhood video files and pictures. Gordon claims at least 75% of the images of him are really Alan, and Scott always blamed Virgil for anything that made him look bad, but John could never get away with anything because of that flaming red hair of his."

"I can fix her a tray, no problem."

Maria put the mini-quiches in the oven and started cutting oranges, honeydew, and cantaloupe. Sally washed some home-grown strawberries and set them on towels to dry. When the mini-quiches were done, the cinnamon rolls were ready to take their place in the oven. While the rolls baked, filling the house with that wonderful yeasty cinnamon aroma, Maria made icing to drizzle over the top.

By the time Maria got all the food ready, Virgil and Kayo had shown up in the kitchen. Virgil went to fetch Ridley's entertainment at Sally's behest while Maria assembled a food tray. As she was taking it up the second staircase to the bedroom level, she caught John coming down. His eyes widened at the spread of food on the tray. Maria smiled. "Oh good, you can take this to Ridley. Virgil is getting her some entertainment to keep her busy so she won't feel neglected while you attend the family meeting."

"Wow, this looks great, Maria. Thanks for making this for our guest."

"Least I could do after she picked us up and contaminated her ship to get us to Atlanta."

John took the tray from her and turned around to go back up the stairs. When Maria got back to the kitchen, Kayo and Alan were busy in a "welcome home" hug and Scott was munching on a cinnamon roll. Brains had found the honeydew.

"John is delivering the tray to Ridley. He should be right back," Maria said.

"I told Virgil to wake up Gordon after he took care of Ridley's entertainment. So everyone is awake and back from missions. Brains has EOS forwarding all calls until further notice. We're having a family meeting and no interruptions!" She raised her voice to address everyone in the kitchen. "Everyone grab a platter and head up to the lounge. May as well be comfortable."

Virgil, Gordon, and John arrived from the third floor at the same time as everyone else arrived from below. Sally waited until everyone had served themselves and was settled in. She had Maria help her to the little half-couch between the globe lamp and the stairs Scott always took to get to his gear-up. This was not Sally's normal seat in the lounge, but evidently she wanted to face everyone and this was easier than standing. Maria sat next to Virgil, facing Sally like everyone else.

The Tracy matriarch waited for attention and then drew a deep breath. "I should have told you all a long time ago. I have Truflun's Disease. It's stage 4." There were some gasps of horror, but Sally didn't give them any time to question her. She ploughed on quickly, probably having rehearsed what she needed to say for weeks. "The doctors say I only have a few months to live. I hired Maria to help me so I could be with you all a little longer, but it has never been her job to cure me. There's nothing she can do, nothing _anyone_ can do. If you want to blame anyone, blame me. I refused treatment when I first found out, back around the time you'd just lost your dad. There was a chance then, but the side effects of treatment could have been severe. I got many more years than they told me I'd get and I was able to be here with you all, especially for Alan, who was still so young back then. I have no regrets for the choice I made. I hope you all can forgive me for keeping this a secret so long."

Everyone sat in stunned silence for at least a minute. Virgil stood first and approached, then crouched down and hugged her. "Of course we forgive you, Grandma."

One by one, her grandsons came and gave her hugs and kisses on the cheek. Kayo also embraced her, whispering, "Nothing to forgive."

Sally wiped a tear away and sniffed. "That went better than I thought it would. Now, we need to discuss what's going to happen to Maria when I... you know. We all know how Virgil feels, so he's going to be quiet while I hear from the rest of you."

"I need her on underwater perimeter patrol," Kayo said. "I hope she stays." Maria smiled at her and nodded.

"Thanks, Kayo," Sally said.

"You have to stay! Who would make tacos?" Alan said, sounding utterly distressed about the prospect of a tacoless future. Maria chuckled inwardly at this.

"What about all she's teaching us about sharks?" Gordon added. "Just a few days ago in the North Sea I had this guy who freaked out because he thought a Greenland shark was a Great White. I would have been scared myself a few months ago, but I just told him that Greenlands were blind and slow swimmers and never attacked humans and he calmed right down. Please stay so you can keep teaching us about sharks." Maria nodded her appreciation for his compliment even as she made a mental note to ask about the Greenland shark later. She'd always wanted to see one.

"I got you both beat," John said. "She just saved my  _life_. She's got my vote forever for that, but these cinnamon rolls aren't bad either." He took a huge bite out of the roll in his hand and chewed with a smile behind his full mouth.

Brains spoke next. "Not to one-up you, J-John, but she saved the entire city of Cape Town. She covers areas of expertise and knowledge that I lack, so I vote yes t-too."

" _You_  lack knowledge, Brains?" Alan asked, genuine bewilderment written on his features.

"Of course I d-do. I never claimed to be a know-it-all."

It was silent for a few seconds. "Scott?" Sally prompted.

"She's family now. I think it's clear she's perfect for us, despite my early misgivings and rude behavior toward her." He faced Maria. "The question is, do you _want_ to stay here with us when Grandma is gone?"

Maria felt a lump in her throat. "It was never a question of me wanting to stay, Scott. I love this island, I love all of you, and I love my job even without the nursing. The question was whether you all felt I was worth keeping around once the home health aide duties evaporated. Thanks to Brains, my debts are paid, so I don't need money anymore; I can work just for room and board. I'd stay to cook and clean and do the underwater patrol, if that was enough."

Scott smiled. "Oh that's enough, for sure. I'm not trying to make more work for you, but if you're interested, what would you say to becoming  _our_  home health aide... kind of like a flight surgeon, to watch over all of International Rescue personnel?"

Maria considered a moment and then drew a deep breath. "Scott, you'd better think hard and consult the others before offering that, because if I took on such a role in an official capacity, the very first thing I would do is call Colonel Casey and tell her exactly how much the GDF has been taking you all for granted. The International Aviation Board has rules, and you've somehow been exempted, no doubt so they could continue to exploit you. I would  _demand_  that you be afforded the same protections against fatigue and overwork that all the other pilots in the world get." Maria saw Sally grin big at this point. Maybe she had made this argument before, but no one listened because she was old or something.

"I doubt Colonel Casey knows how little sleep we actually get," John said.

"Why is that?" Maria pressed. "Technology to detect sleep and log the time automatically has been incorporated into fitness trackers available on the retail market for at least fifty years. Sensors and datalinks could easily be incorporated into your uniforms and made into wristbands or clothing clips for your off-duty time. I know you all keep  _Thunderbird_  hours meticulously logged so you don't neglect equipment maintenance. Why isn't your health given the same priority?"

"But then we'd have to start saying no," John said, sounding aghast at the very notion.

Maria nodded. "Exactly. I'd tattle on you if you didn't, which is why I'm warning you before I accept this as an official job. I would  _force_  the GDF to get their act together and handle all the rescues they should be handling and to delegate to municipalities all the smaller jobs. Your father never intended for International Rescue to be responsible for every emergency in the entire world. It's one thing to go where no one else is able to. It's quite another to send  _Thunderbird 1_  halfway across the globe to pull a deaf girl out of a construction site because some local dispatcher couldn't be  _bothered_  to send someone to the scene to check it out and make sure they couldn't handle it before you got called in."

"She has a point," Scott admitted. "Even a volunteer fire department with some rope could have got her out of that hole."

"If I was just cook and housekeeper, I'd still be willing to go with you on rescues as needed and keep all your secrets, including how overworked you are and how much it disturbs me. I'm just saying that if you put me in charge of your health, don't expect me to ignore the fatigue and overwork issue. If I took that job, I  ** _would_**  do something about it."

Virgil cleared his throat. "How about we put that idea on hold, since she already said she was willing to stay without it. Can I have  _my_  turn now?"

Everyone nodded. Some muttered, "sure" or "go ahead", but they all sounded like whatever he was going to say was so predictable and superfluous they really didn't need to hear it.

Virgil stood and stepped toward the centre table, then looked back at everyone. "I'm glad to hear that you all want Maria to stay, because I'm not willing to live without her anymore. If she goes, I go." There were murmurs of protest but he raised his hand to halt them. It was already a moot point. "She's got a lot to offer us, but there's one thing I want to offer  _her_." He stepped closer to her and looked straight into her soul with those fathomless brown eyes. "I  _propose_  you stay on Tracy Island not just as our cook and housekeeper, but as a  _Tracy_ ," he knelt on one knee, pulled a ring box from his shirt pocket, and opened it to display at her eye level, "specifically, Mrs. Virgil Tracy. Maria, will you marry me?"

She wanted to look at Virgil, but the ring was right in her face, and she was too curious not to at least get a look. It was white gold or platinum with a smooth inlaid design: a jade hammerhead shark whose head lay on a mother-of-pearl nurse shark's tail while the nurse shark's head lay on the hammerhead's tail. The background around the sharks was a clear, veinless turquoise and bordered by an octopus tentacle. The shank of the ring was decorated in tiny starfish, seahorses, and scallop shells.

The room was deathly silent as if everyone were holding their breaths. Maria knew all eyes were on her. Her heart thumped so loudly she thought surely everyone could hear it. Of course, the answer was yes a thousand times over, but it seemed so inadequate to convey all the emotions bursting forth. Then the perfect answer hit her. She smiled widely and looked over the ring box to gaze back at Virgil. "F.A.B."

He smiled and she lunged for an embrace that knocked Virgil off balance, sending both of them rolling on the floor. Maria didn't see what happened to the ring, nor could she discern who cheered loudly and who jumped up and applauded, even as a small corner of her brain was aware that a lot of celebratory noise was happening all around her. Virgil's lips met hers and that was all she knew and all she cared to know.  _I'm going to be Mrs. Virgil Tracy_.


	36. Chapter 36

The celebrating had only settled down a little when Ridley peeked around the corner, holding her empty breakfast tray. She was wearing a plain cotton jumpsuit, like the ones IR handed out to disaster victims. "Wait. Don't tell me. Someone caught The Hood and The Alchemist?"

John jumped from his seat on the couch and bounded up the four stairs to meet her. "No, Virgil just popped the question and Maria said yes."

"Oh! Congratulations, you two."

"Thank you," Maria and Virgil said together, waving from the floor where they'd landed and still hadn't bothered to get up. Virgil was propped on one elbow with Maria leaning her back against his chest, her now-ringed left hand entwined in his.

John took the tray out of Ridley's hands and headed down to the kitchen with it. Ridley followed him.

Brains gestured to MAX, who reached into his spherical back cavity and handed something white to Brains, who then offered it to Maria. "I thought you should have some k-kind of uniform to wear on rescues."

Maria accepted it, immediately recognising it was a lab coat. She blinked. Surely Sally hadn't given Brains any clue they would be discussing her fate at this meeting. "How did you know?"

"That you'd be staying p-permanently? I didn't, but you'd already gone with Scott on a rescue and you went up to  _Thunderbird 5_  on a solo mission. I thought you should look official. You can just throw it over your s-scrubs as needed."

The breast pocket had an IR logo and "Maria Anderson, LVN" embroidered on it. Maria grabbed the neck and let the garment unfold. A triangular patch of the staff of Asclepius, just like the one Brains had put on her diving suit, was sewn on the right shoulder.

"If you want a new one after you're married, I can of course ch-change the name." 

"Thank you, Brains. This is awesome."

"I want you to know, I'm on y-your side about the overwork. Pilots need their r-rest."

If Scott really wanted to fix the overwork issue, he could go to Colonel Casey himself and didn't need her or anyone else. Maria was going to watch out for IR because they were family, not because it was part of an official job description. She nodded her thanks for Brains' support anyway.

"So how long do I have to fabricate five t-tuxedos?" He had that 'oh boy, I get to make something cool' gleam in his eye again.

"Uh, we haven't discussed it yet, Brains," Virgil said. "What do you think, honey? How long do you need to plan the wedding of your dreams?"

Maria laughed and shook her head. "My mother told me multiple times that no one would ever want to marry me and I believed her. I didn't dare dream about a wedding. If you asked me to hop on  _Thunderbird 2_  so we could fly out to find a judge, I'd be fine with that. No planning necessary."

"Don't you  _dare!_ " Sally gasped. "I want to see all my boys dressed up nice! Brains, get started on those tuxedos!"

Maria searched Virgil's face for a reaction. He just shrugged as if to say,  _let Grandma have this_.

"Okay, then, Sally, will you be my Matron of Honour?" Maria asked. If the Tracy men had to wear tuxedos then she had better be prepared to wear something besides that track suit.

"I'd be honoured, dear."

"Scott, be my Best Man?" Virgil asked.

"You got it, bro."

"Uh, how are you going to manage everyone getting time off for this?" Maria asked Virgil quietly.

Sally grinned. "Gran Roca Ranch is scheduled in four weeks. We take that time every year for testing new gear, training, and family time. What do you say?"

Maria had heard about the place and while family time sounded lovely, she seemed to remember someone saying it was in the middle of a desert, which was second only to freezing tundra on her list of places she didn't particularly want to hold a wedding. However, she'd just said she was willing to elope on the spot, so she could hardly complain about the venue. With Sally fading fast, there wouldn't be a lot of choices. This was as good as anything else they could put together in a hurry. "Fine by me if it's not too soon for Virgil."

"Too soon? I was wondering how I could wait that long." He hugged her tight.

"We should have snuck out in the middle of the night," Maria said in a loud stage whisper.

The comms beeped, startling everyone in the room. The centre table projected EOS's dot-circle avatar.

Sally frowned. "I thought all calls were being forwarded to other authorities until further notice," she said in something approaching a growl.

"All emergency calls are indeed being forwarded. I am attempting to reach Captain O'Bannon. The CDC has cleared her shuttlecraft and she is free to return to  _Global 1_  now."

"Thank you, EOS," John said, arriving up from the kitchen just in time, Ridley on his heels.

"When will you be returning to  _Thunderbird 5_ , John?" EOS asked.

"Ridley's going to drop me off on her way," he said. He was smiling, but Maria couldn't tell if it was for Ridley, EOS, or for getting back to space.

Maria cleared her throat and spoke up into comms. "Did you take all those steps for decontaminating  _Thunderbird 5_  like we discussed, EOS?"

"Yes, Miss Anderson, I did everything you suggested. Virus scans are all negative. Will you be coming for a visit soon?" If Maria didn't know better, she'd think EOS actually missed her.

"Let's hope not," Maria said. "You take care of John so I don't need to, okay?"

"I will." Her avatar winked out.

Ridley looked at Maria. "Wow, she likes you."

Alan nodded. "Yeah, she's never that nice to  _us_."

Maria chuckled. "Maybe that's because I took steps to ingratiate myself with her. I declared I was just a puny Space Peasant in King John's Space Castle."

John's face turned red while everyone else laughed heartily at this.

"Ridley, what are you doing in about four weeks?" Maria asked. "Virgil has four brothers and I desperately need bridesmaids to balance the wedding party. Would you be able to get away from  _Global 1_?"

"I might be able to arrange that," she said with a sly grin. "I'll let you know."

"Who wants to take us to Atlanta?" John asked.

"I'll do it," Scott said, getting up from his seat. "Virgil needs to stick around and pick out colour schemes and cocktail napkins."

"No way," Virgil said. "Grandma's the one who wants the fussy-dressy wedding thing, so  _she_  can pick that stuff. But I'm quite comfortable here, so thanks for volunteering."

Scott took his gear-up exit while Ridley headed upstairs to change back into her spacesuit. John also needed to change, but Maria had no idea if he had a mechanical gear-up somewhere or if he had to put his own uniform on. This being the first time he'd come down from  _Thunderbird 5_ , she'd had no occasion to observe his habits before.

Kayo, Alan, and Gordon were still sitting on couches, chatting, but Maria had the feeling this wouldn't last now that John would be going back to work and opening up calls again. Although she was more than a little worried about the answer, she took a deep breath and ploughed on with a slight cringe. "Kayo, will you be a bridesmaid? Please?"

"I'd have to wear a dress, wouldn't I?" The look on her face suggested she would rather die.

"The guys will all be in tuxedos, so yeah, I think we have to dress up a little."

Kayo rolled her eyes, but when she saw Alan's pleading puppy-eyes and pouting lips begging her, she seemed to lose some of her resolve. The fact that he was just back after a long absence didn't hurt either.

"What if I d-designed your dress, Kayo?" Brains offered. "With cool hidden f-functions like the tuxedos?"

Her eyes lit up at this. "Really, Brains? Do you even have time?"

"Of c-course. It's four weeks away. P-Plenty of time."

"Brains, if you design hers, you'd have to either match something off the rack for the other bridesmaids or design them all," Maria warned. She liked the idea of Brains doing it, but she didn't want to overtax his time and talents.

"You'd let me d-do all of them?"

" _Let you?_ " Maria laughed. "You ought to make everyone owe you favours or something. As far as I'm concerned, you can do whatever you want."

Brains grinned. "This will b-be fun."

"Okay, I'm in," Kayo said with a resigned sigh.

Alan did a fist pump and exclaimed "Yes!" loudly.

Virgil tapped Maria's shoulder. "What kind of officiate do we want?" he asked. "Priest? Minister? Judge?" His mouth said the words, but his eyes jerked very pointedly toward Brains.

"I'm not picky. What do  _you_  want?"

Virgil smiled and turned his face to the engineer. "Brains, how about making a tux for yourself and officiating the ceremony for us?"

"M-Me?"

"Of course you," Virgil said. "You're not going to make tuxedos and dresses for everyone else, then sit on the sidelines."

Brains looked touched. He smiled. "You got it, Virgil."

"And you can invite a plus-one," Maria said.  _And Professor Moffat had better take you up on it_. "I need to call London next." Maria was planning to ask Parker if he would give her away, but her words reached Gordon's ears and he perked up, obviously getting the wrong idea.

The thought of talking to Lady Penelope terrified Maria to the bone. She hadn't had an opportunity (or the guts) to apologise about her drug-induced speculation that Lady Penelope might be a lesbian and Maria knew she had heard The Alchemist's recording.  _Maybe I could beg someone from back home to pretend to be my friend long enough to be a bridesmaid?_  She could think of someone who might do it in order to meet some handsome and eligible Tracy men. Maybe.

One glance at Gordon's excited face shot that idea down. He was already anticipating walking down that aisle with the beautiful woman he adored hanging on his arm, not Backstabbing Betty from Los Angeles. Besides, Maria couldn't foist Betty on a future brother-in-law, even in retaliation for the bubblegum hair that ruined Paris. Not to mention, it was Maria's wedding and  _she_  didn't want to endure Betty's presence either. She would just have to suck it up and ask Lady Penelope. She didn't know what in the world she would have done if Sally hadn't agreed to be Matron of Honour. If she'd had to find a wedding attendant partner for Scott too, she would be in deep trouble. It was worrisome enough that Ridley might not be able to make it.

"I'm just about to call there," Sally said. "Lady Penelope was nice enough not to pry when I went to hire you, but I really need to tell her, now that family has been informed."

 _Great, soften her up with tragic news before I try to apologise for my rude American brashness_. She leaned into her fiancé and whispered, "Virgil, you sure we can't elope?"

"What? After you got Kayo to agree to wear a  _dress_? There's no turning back now."

 _Maybe **you**  can ask the proper English Lady to be in the wedding then_, she grumbled in her mind, even as she knew that filling the bridesmaids positions was her responsibility.

And then the beautiful London Agent was there in the lounge, her holo-image projected from the picture that sat next to Maria's on the coffee table. Maria had been so proud of her picture in her diving suit, but now her photo struck her as downright homely next to Lady Penelope's, who looked like she was dressed for a high society fashion show.

Sally was doing all the talking at the moment, which gave Maria a little time to pull herself together. What was the worst that could happen? Lady Penelope would pass on being a bridesmaid. Gordon would be more crushed than Maria would, although Maria truly didn't know what she would do about the wedding. Maybe Sally would have an idea. This was all for her benefit in the first place.  _Breathe, Maria, just breathe_.

"But you said there was good news?" Lady Penelope's holo-image asked hopefully after Sally had dropped the details of her diagnosis and condolences had been given.

"I did, but it's not my news to give," Sally said, looking down to where Virgil and Maria sat on the floor. "Who wants to tell her?"

Virgil stood and helped Maria up so that they were standing side by side. Maria nodded to him so they wouldn't both speak at the same time and ruin the announcement. Virgil drew a deep breath. "Maria has consented to be my wife. We're getting married."

"Oh, congratulations to you both! That  _is_  good news," Lady Penelope said.

This was probably as good a mood as Maria could ever hope to find her, so she rushed to take advantage of it.

"I'm sorry I took this long to apologise to you, Lady Penelope. Please forgive me for the extremely rude and insensitive remarks I made about you to The Alchemist." Maria cringed and looked at the floor, wishing for the dreadful moment to be over.

"You mean while you were tied to a chair, tortured, and drugged by that madman? Oh, please think nothing of it. It wasn't your fault. Tell me, did Gordon really take you out alone somewhere to ask advice about  _me_?"

Maria inhaled with relief and glanced over her shoulder at Gordon, who was shaking his head vigorously and pleading with his eyes, but keeping quiet and out of camera pickup range. She looked back at the comms. "I'm sorry, but I'm not at liberty to discuss that subject. You'll have to ask Gordon."

She smiled. "You've told me everything I need to know, thank you."

"I hate to bother you, but I need a favour... well, actually more than one."

"Anything at all. Caterers? Florists? Wedding coordinators? A simply smashing bridal shower? Whatever you need."

"Well, uh, Sally might be taking you up on some of those kind offers, as she's the one handling details, but what I really need is a bridesmaid. Would you consider being a bridesmaid for me?" She held her breath without conscious thought.

Virgil added, "It's just going to be a small family affair at Gran Roca Ranch next month. You were already planning on coming for training and equipment testing, right?"

She looked genuinely surprised by Maria's request. She smiled even wider than the first time. "I would love to be a bridesmaid in your wedding. You said you needed more than one favour. What else can I do for you?"

"Well, since my father is deceased and Parker is closest to the right age and nationality, I was wondering if I could impose upon him to give me away?" She wasn't sure she needed his employer's permission, but Maria didn't quite understand all the quirks of their relationship, what with all the "milady" dropping and such.

Lady Penelope's brows shot up. "Parker, did you hear that? Miss Anderson asked if you would act as a figurative proxy for her father. What do you say?"

Parker popped in next to her. "Cor...I'd be honoured, Miss."

Maria let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Parker. And last but not least... can Sherbert hold a pillow in his mouth and make a nice bee-line down an aisle? We need a ring-bearer."

Virgil squeezed her arm gently. At first, she thought he might not be happy he hadn't been consulted on this unconventional bit of wedding tradition, but one look at his face and the grin he gave her, she knew it was a squeeze that communicated his approval.

"Oh, what a lovely idea. Yes, Sherbert should be able to do that. This is quite exciting."

Maria was so relieved, she didn't know what to say. Virgil spoke up. "Brains is fabricating all the tuxedos and bridesmaid dresses, so he'll probably need body scans."

"I already have Lady Penelope's, unless anything has ch-changed since the last EVA suit I d-designed," Brains said.

"It still fits like a dream, Brains," she said. "I'll scan Parker myself and send the data to you."

"F.A.B." There were waves of goodbye all around.

When the Londoners winked out, Gordon let out a petulant sigh. "Whew, thanks for not telling her, Maria. I owe you one."

"Oh, Gordon, you owe me so much more than one. You don't know how close you came to being paired with Backstabbing Betty from Los Angeles for the wedding." Maria gave him a sort of smirk-smile, but didn't push the matter. She would have been nearly as miserable as Gordon if Lady Penelope had declined.

"But did you have to put the dog in the wedding?" Gordon whinged. It sounded to Maria like wishing he didn't have to compete with the dog for a certain someone's attention.

Maria chuckled. "Why not? I love animals. I'd put your bearded dragons in the wedding if I could figure out something for them to do. I don't suppose they could scatter rose petals like a flower girl?"

"Buddy and Ellie? No, they don't do anything except eat and fight a lot."

"You realise Buddy and Ellie are both male, right?"

"What? No! I didn't name them. They were a gift from Buddy and Ellie Pendergast. How can you tell?"

She decided not to mention the biology lab courses she'd taken that involved being able to identify their sexual differences. Besides, there were other clues besides the anatomical. "That's why they fight so much. Males are territorial. If 'Ellie' were actually female, there'd have been lots of baby bearded dragons by now. You really should provide separate quarters before one of them gets seriously hurt."

Gordon didn't say anything, but it almost looked like he didn't care if his pets killed each other. Maybe that incident with the oversized reptilian monsters had scarred him for life and he was taking it out on the pets he never asked for? Maria would quietly rescue the sweet little guys from Gordon if he really didn't care. She'd have to watch more carefully now that she was sure she'd be staying.

"M-MAX could scatter flower petals if you want, Maria," Brains offered. "He'll be there anyway. May as well p-put him to work."

"That would be perfect, Brains!" How many women could say they had robotic flower girls in their weddings? Not very many. This wedding thing was shaping up nicely.


	37. Chapter 37

Maria didn't have to contend with the headaches of managing all the crazy wedding details because Sally and Lady Penelope handled everything. She did watch Sally closely to make sure the extra work wasn't compromising her health, but Sally was remarkably un-stressed about it all. Maria quietly took Scott aside and recommended he invite a plus-one. He'd have to stand with his grandma for all the wedding pictures, but he might like having a dinner and dance partner for the reception.

Although Maria was mostly staying out of it, she was aware of a bit of kerfluffle going on among the bridesmaids over their dresses. It seemed she gave them a little too much freedom and they all had very different ideas of what they wanted to wear. Brains solved the dilemma with a brilliant idea how to keep them all happy and still have some semblance of coordination. He decided to harmonise the  _print_ of the fabric instead of colours or style of clothing. He encouraged the women to dictate their own styles and let them choose their colour preference from a line of fabrics Maria chose specifically because the print had the most background colours available. Ridley chose a cobalt blue, Lady Penelope chose a deep blood red that was almost burgundy, Kayo chose a dark teal, and Sally chose a dark purple. Their personal colour choices were the background to a Hawaiian print that was similar to Maria's graduation dress. They all had bamboo, ferns, and a scant smattering of plumeria flowers printed in ivory on their chosen backgrounds so they would all look like a coherent group despite all wanting different dress styles and colours.

Maria's bridal gown would be made of the same print, just done with an ivory on white, so it was very subtle. Brains had magnanimously offered to make her bridal gown as well. As if he didn't have enough on his plate already. Maria told him her dress didn't matter that much, so he could just do whatever he felt best. She trusted him implicitly after the diving suit from Heaven. The only thing she requested was long sleeves to hide the hexagon brands and the wrist scars. It wasn't like she had even the slightest chance of being the most beautiful woman there, so no point trying to out-do the bridesmaids. Let them shine all they wanted; she was getting Virgil.

All the Tracy men would have black trousers and white jackets for the wedding, with solid cummerbunds, pocket squares, and bow ties to match their ladies: teal for Alan, deep red for Gordon, cobalt blue for John, dark purple for Scott, and white for Virgil. Parker and Brains would have black jackets, black trousers, and silver satin bow ties, pocket squares, and cummerbunds.

Sally brought two old wedding bands down to breakfast one morning. "Virgil, Maria, these were mine and my husband's. I'd like to give them to you, since Scott will be inheriting his mother's and father's rings."

Maria gasped. "Oh Sally, that's very generous, but I love my sharks." She leaned into Virgil and made a point of admiring the engagement ring on her hand. "Maybe you should save them for Gordon, John, or Alan."

"Well, I  _ **do**_  want Grandpa Tracy's ring," Virgil said. "How about you wear the sharks on your right hand and wear a band that matches mine on your left? The sharks are barely engagement-worthy."

"I beg to differ. They're perfect. But I can wear them on my right hand if you want to match. I didn't think you'd want to wear a ring at all, since you work with your hands so much."

"I couldn't wear a college ring or anything bulky like that, but a simple band like this will fit under my gloves just fine."

Maria nodded. "I guess we accept, then, Sally. Thank you so much."

"You're very welcome, dear, but I think it's time you stopped calling me Sally. You're family now."

Maria took the rings and hugged her. "Thank you, Grandma Tracy," she whispered as they embraced.

Plans were moving forward smoothly after the Great Bridesmaid Dress Dilemma had been quelled, so it was therefore a little disconcerting when Kayo cornered Maria and Virgil alone to impart some ominous news. "I think someone, likely the florist, caterers, or the DJ, compromised our secret. It looks like The Alchemist and The Hood know about the wedding and are planning to use this opportunity to strike against us while we're distracted."

"What? How?" Virgil asked.

Kayo shook her head. "I don't know for sure, Virgil, but I thought you two should be aware. We can change the date or the location or both and probably avoid whatever evil plan they're cooking up."

Virgil sighed and looked at Maria. "What do you think, honey? Tracy Island instead?"

Maria met his eyes. "Like I said before, it doesn't really matter to me where we get married. However, if it's all the same to you, getting either or both of those villains behind bars would be one heck of a wedding present. I'd rather pretend we don't know and set a trap for them."

Virgil chuckled. "You're willing to have them ruin our wedding?"

"As long as no one gets hurt and we  _catch_  them, absolutely. But if you'd rather—"

"No. I'm with you. Let's take advantage of this." He turned to Kayo and gave her a nod.

Kayo grinned. "Just what I hoped you'd say. We take them down."

"You should collaborate with Brains," Virgil said. "He's putting cool hidden features in everyone's clothes. Let's make sure it's stuff that will be useful, considering the uninvited guests we're expecting."

Maria spoke next. "We need to have a way to recognise each other too. Like they did in Harry Potter because of polyjuice potion. The Hood can disguise himself as any one of us, so you'll forgive me if I make sure you're you before I vow to love, honour, and obey, because I'm not about to promise that to the guy who told The Alchemist to torture and maim me all he wanted because I wasn't good for anything else."

Virgil nodded. "Good point. If anyone posing as me doesn't answer correctly, you knee him in the groin for me. I don't care about the  _wedding_ , but he can't have my bride."

Kayo chuckled. "You two are so perfect for each other. I kind of hope he tries to take your place, Virgil, because I think watching Maria get payback might make this the most entertaining wedding in the history of forever."

 _Knee him in the groin? Getting payback?_  All Maria wanted to do was not marry the creep. She was counting on everyone else to do the capturing and payback part. "Uh, Kayo,  _you're_  the bad-ass Wonder Woman, not me. I was just planning on saying 'no way, José' instead of 'I do.'"

"Maybe I should show you some moves, just in case."

"Okay," Maria said tentatively, but she had grave doubts it would do much to alter her cowardice.

Virgil had to leave on a mission at that moment, but Kayo spent some time right then and every day after that trying to teach Maria some self-defense moves. She was a better teacher than Gordon, but Maria was probably the worst student ever. Maria had no coordination whatsoever and her reflexes were worse than a snail's. It wasn't that she couldn't understand what she was  _supposed_  to do, it was getting her body to actually accomplish what her brain wanted. Over and over, she tried, and over and over, she just couldn't quite get it right. She felt terrible for wasting Kayo's time so much, but Kayo was patient and didn't act annoyed.

Four days before the wedding, everyone packed up to leave Tracy Island. John came down from  _Thunderbird 5_ , but Ridley couldn't get more than two days off from  _Global 1_ , so she would be arriving at Gran Roca Ranch a few days later.  _Thunderbirds 3_  and  _4_  stayed at the hangar on Tracy Island. Maria gathered that the hangar at Gran Roca Ranch wasn't as big as the one at home and they would need to save space for Ridley's shuttle in it as well. They could have brought  _Thunderbird 4_  in the cargo module, but Virgil and Maria were going to take a heli-pod for their honeymoon and everyone agreed having the mole and other ground pod options in the desert would be more useful than a submarine. Scott took Alan and John with him in  _Thunderbird 1_ , Kayo took  _Thunderbird Shadow_ , and everyone else rode in  _Thunderbird 2_. Lady Penelope, Parker, and Sherbert came in  _FAB 1_.

Scott's plus-one, an Air Terrainean Cargo pilot named Jane Carter, would be picking up Brains' plus-one, Professor Moffat, in Iceland, and then flying out to Gran Roca, but they wouldn't arrive until the day of the wedding.

The family did spend quite a bit of time testing new equipment when they first arrived, especially anything Virgil would need practice with. The rest of them would have time after the wedding for more training while Virgil was on his honeymoon. They also met for discussing strategies. Kayo brought everyone up to speed on what they suspected about The Hood and The Alchemist planning to crash the party and what precautions they'd taken and what protocols they would use if needed. Brains took over the meeting to explain all the features he'd designed into the tuxedos, so Lady Penelope took advantage of this moment to steer Kayo and Maria to another part of the hangar alone to talk about accessories.

Although she had walked away with Maria and Lady Penelope, discussing girly nonsense was the last thing Kayo wanted to do and her face showed her disinterest until Lady Penelope dangled a sparkly chandelier earring in front of Kayo's face and then tossed it to the ground five metres away. It exploded in a bright magnesium flash of light that blinded Maria and Kayo.

"Other people wear _bling_ ," she said, her voice sneering a bit while pronouncing the slang, "but International Rescue women wear Flash-Bangs. Don't worry, your sight will return shortly." She placed her hand on Maria's and Kayo's arms to steady them while they blinked hard against the temporary blindness. "The reason I'm showing you now is so no one plans any other earrings. The Flash-Bangs are all magnetically attached, so no piercing required and no pain or ear damage if we have to yank them off in a hurry. Maria, I also commissioned a boomerang built into your veil's crown."

"Thank you," Maria murmured, wondering what in the world she would want a boomerang for, but not wanting to sound ungrateful.

"Kayo, I had some useful gadgets made into hair accessories for the bridesmaids. I'll be wearing a ruby rhinestone French Twist comb that becomes a microfibre bola net that's stronger than steel when it gets wet. Simply drop in a glass of champagne or dip in the punch bowl and it's ready to throw. I have two more in case you'd like a French Twist, but I also have some enamel and pearl hair sticks that would look simply smashing with your dress."

"You've seen my dress?" Brains had been very secretive and no one had seen their finished dresses yet, including Maria.

"I saw the design you chose. Perfect for you, of course. Will you be wearing your hair up?"

Maria had been a little worried Kayo would insist on the ponytail that wasn't really formal enough for the occasion. However, since the beautiful Head of Security had already been compelled to wear a dress against her wishes, Maria wasn't going to wheedle her about anything else. A ponytail wouldn't really cause any harm. Having Kayo feel comfortable was more important than her appearance. Leave it to Lady Penelope to give Kayo a good incentive to ditch the ponytail.

Although spots were still blinking in her field of vision, Maria could see Kayo's brow lift with interest. "What do these hair sticks do?"

"It's a set of two. One stick is a super high frequency sonic emitter that will render anyone within a fifteen metre radius unconscious if they're not wearing protective ear plugs, a set of which I'll be providing you. The other stick has collapsible fan blades inside and when activated, can create a powerful wind current. It's not enough to power a wind tunnel, mind you, but it will quickly disperse any airborne poisons or chemicals The Alchemist might send our way."

"And you can put these sticks in my hair so they look like they belong there and they won't fall out and render anyone unconscious accidentally?"

"Absolutely."

"Then I'll take them." Kayo wore a devious sort of grin.

"That leaves a French Twist comb for Miss O'Bannon, which just happens to be in sapphire to match her cobalt dress."

 _Happens to?_  Right. Lady Penelope probably had the thing custom made specifically for Ridley.

"Does she have long enough hair for it?"

"I think so, but you'll probably have to help her make it work," Kayo said. "She doesn't seem the fussy hair type."

"That's because she's always got to wear that tight cap with her spacesuit," Maria said.

"Yes, I've seen her on comms a few times," Lady Penelope said, "but she's always got her hair covered."

"She took the cap off at the CDC when she was with John," Maria said. "She can pull off a French Twist if she wants."

Lady Penelope turned to Maria. "You sure  _you_  don't want a French Twist comb? I brought three of them. The extra is clear rhinestones, so it will go with white."

Maria shook her head. "No thanks. Virgil likes my hair down, but I don't let it out of a bun much because it gets in my way when I'm cooking. I told him I'd wear it down for the wedding. Maybe you can tempt Professor Moffat with the comb? I've only seen pictures of her, but she looks like she has long enough hair."

"You're right, she does," Lady Penelope said. "Or at least she did the last time I saw her. I'm so glad Brains was able to entice her away from her research lab to come to this. He's worked so hard. He deserves to have a nice time with someone special."

They wandered back to where Brains was finishing his lecture to all the guys about their tuxedo functions.

"What was that flash of light?" Alan asked.

Lady Penelope smiled. "The women will all be wearing earrings that can cause temporary blindness. If anyone shouts to close your eyes during the wedding, you may want to do it."

"K-Kayo, good," Brains said upon seeing her. "We should go over the features of your d-dress now that you're here."

Everyone left Kayo and Brains alone and headed off to lunch. There was more equipment testing and training after lunch and then Ridley arrived at sundown. John asked her what he said on their first meeting and Ridley said, "You told me I should take better care of my toys."

"That's the real Ridley," John declared with a smile.

They held the wedding rehearsal as soon as she got settled in. Ridley turned out to be just as uninterested in hair accessories and jewellery as Kayo had been, but she was completely willing to wear anything that had useful secret gadgets inside. She regarded the villain trap as a sort of Rube Goldberg engineering competition that she was super keen to win. Rumour had it that she'd been a bit lukewarm about even participating in the wedding at all until Kayo contacted her to warn her about the threat of The Hood and The Alchemist showing up, and then she'd been wholeheartedly sold and moved all kinds of administrative obstacles to get the time off  _Global 1_  so she could come.

Brains handed out the formal clothing after the rehearsal. None of the guys even took the covers off their tuxedo hangers. A tux was a tux and they were all pretty much the same. They said thanks and carted them off to their rooms. The women, however, wanted to see their dresses and try them on. They all retreated to the huge master bedroom that had been designated as the women's dressing room.

Maria's gown fit perfectly and looked spectacular despite being rather simple in cut. Poofy gigot sleeves, a high neckline and a few fake pearls sewn on top of the dress where the plumeria came up in the printed design. There was no train on the dress, but the veil's lace was extra long and would act like a train. However, once she confirmed that the dress fit and looked fine, she took it off and put it back under its protective wraps. She was curious about the bridesmaids' dresses both because they were all so different and because she'd never seen any of the women except Lady Penelope in a dress ever before.

Kayo's teal print was made into a lovely cheongsam style sheath dress that ended just below the knee. It had a mandarin collar and an asymmetrical overlap on one shoulder that fastened with frog closures that continued down the side. Both sides were slit about ten centimetres up so she could move freely.

Ridley's cobalt print was done up in a retro style reminiscent of a poodle skirt, but not quite as full. The bodice was fitted and it had an ivory peter pan collar. She would look great with the French Twist and the earrings. If she and John didn't do a jitterbug at least once at the reception, it would be a crime.

Lady Penelope's blood-red print had been fashioned into a style Maria was certain she'd seen on the front page of the London Times, worn by one of the royal family to some big event. The dress didn't button straight down the front, but had a diagonal button line from right shoulder to left knee. The button placket wasn't straight either, but cut as a wavy line. The hem of the dress was asymmetrical in the opposite direction, shorter on the left side than the right. The neckline was scooped, but also had that wavy edge to it.

Grandma Tracy's purple print had been used the most authentically, made into a long flowing muumuu with flutter sleeves and a wide ruffle at the hem. It was definitely more dressy than the track suit, but didn't look too formal or uncomfortable for the elderly Matron of Honour.

Every single dress fit perfectly and complemented the wearers so totally that Maria was glad they'd all been allowed to choose their own styles. She could even imagine Ridley, Grandma, and Lady Penelope wearing their dresses again. Dinner that night had been made back on Tracy Island by Maria the week prior. They didn't want the caterers showing up early in case that was the source of the security leak. They all wanted a peaceful night's rest before the possibility of posers that might try something while they slept.

As Maria drifted off to the recorded sounds of crashing surf, she tried not to dwell too much on the fact that tomorrow would be a Very Big Day.


	38. Chapter 38

The Hood knew that the Tracys were setting a trap at their Gran Roca Ranch training facility. He'd been the one to make sure his niece discovered the security leak so he could send The Alchemist into that trap. He was tired of the bumbling fool and his kiddie chem set. The Dr. Evil wannabe had already had three chances to deliver Tracy Island and the _Thunderbirds_ and he'd failed every single one of them. Now he would serve as the distraction The Hood needed to take over Tracy Island himself. However, he didn't tell the fool any of this. He'd learned his lesson after the CATCH-to-cover-allsterene-theft fiasco. There would be no one anywhere that could possibly squeal to Kayo that The Alchemist's shenanigans at this wedding were a diversion to keep the Tracys from watching their home base.

There was even a chance The Alchemist could succeed this time in ridding the world of those infernal do-gooders—otherwise known as International Rescue—but he, Hood, wasn't counting on it. It would be a nice bonus if his associate could actually deliver the results he boasted of, but Hood was way past depending on him. He told The Alchemist he was accompanying him to Gran Roca so he wouldn't know the true plan. _Doofenshmirtz_ would end up alone at the ill-fated wedding, but not without plenty of advantages. If he got caught, it would be no one's fault but his own. In that case, he'd probably be sent to some GDF prison to rot, hopefully forever. Incompetence like his deserved no less.

Whatever happened at Gran Roca was irrelevant to the real goal. While the Tracys and their minions were wasting all their paranoid efforts on The Alchemist, The Hood would quietly slip into the deserted Tracy Island and take over. There'd be no silly WASP re-set manoeuvres to thwart him this time. He'd disconnect London and any other remote backups as his first priority.

It had taken him six years to figure out a way to set foot on their fortress headquarters. After his last failed attempt, the security had been made even more impenetrable. He couldn't fly anywhere near the island without being detected. Approach by boat was just as impossible. Even the underwater assault was obstructed now thanks to The Alchemist alerting them to the oversight. Kayo had been swift to set up underwater cameras and motion detectors even before she arranged regular human surveillance. As he understood it, she'd assigned that surveillance to the cook who'd replaced her father, the same woman who'd foiled The Alchemist's first big plan. But Ms. Anderson couldn't currently be on patrol because she was the bride. However, the automatic cameras and other detectors Kayo had set up would no doubt ruin any attempt at underwater incursion. Assault on Tracy Island via submarine was out of the question.

The space monitoring station, _Thunderbird 5_ , was the key to everything. It was completely empty and unguarded right now. All The Hood had to do was convince the station's onboard computer that he was John Tracy, position the station in geosynchronous orbit over the Island, then take the space elevator directly down into the Island's hangar cave. Once he disabled WASP, Tracy Island would be his and he could turn all that security toward preventing the Tracys from coming back. The _Thunderbirds_ didn't require pilots to be stolen. The Hood could do that remotely.

Taking over _Thunderbird 5_ might have been slightly easier if The Alchemist had managed to remove John Tracy permanently, like he'd promised a month ago, but leaving him alive had the advantage of now being able to exploit his likeness to fool the computer into giving The Hood everything he always wanted. His plan was ready.

The Alchemist and The Hood stunned two of the catering staff in a parking lot before they ever arrived at their jobs. They used two cloning projection devices to take their places and blend into the staff. Once they were at Gran Roca Ranch, they would both be looking for better targets to impersonate, but they hadn't planned it too rigidly, so they could take advantage of unexpected opportunities. They were not going to collaborate on the job lest they look suspicious. The Alchemist was going to poison the punch, so as long as The Hood didn't drink any, they should not need to communicate. Besides, The Hood was ditching his associate the minute he could do so undetected.

The head caterer directed The Alchemist to set up a table for the cake and hors d'oeuvres while he sent The Hood back to the van to fetch tablecloths and serving ware. _Perfect_. Once inside the van, he changed his disguise to become a coyote and then ran off into the shadows a few kilometres away, where he'd hidden an electric motorbike a few days prior. A small animal wasn't ideal, as the projection device had to hide more when the impersonation wasn't human. However, it was only necessary to fool security cameras and it was unlikely the Tracys would be monitoring boring video footage in the middle of a wedding.

The electric motorbike made no noise, so The Hood could drive away silently. He had to ride it for forty-five more kilometres because that was the closest he'd been able to hide the GDF space shuttle he'd stolen. By all accounts, it was an exact duplicate of the shuttle Captain Ridley O'Bannon had landed and parked in the hangar at Gran Roca. So it was Captain O'Bannon's likeness he adopted when he climbed into the stolen shuttle and took off.

He flew under the radar until he was out over the ocean and then took a steep climb up toward the exosphere. Twenty years ago, such a flight path would have been odd enough to attract unwanted attention, but now there were so many spaceships coming and going all over Earth that the likelihood of one stolen shuttle being noticed was practically nil.

He was lucky that  _Thunderbird Shadow_  was the only IR vehicle with optical camouflage. If  _Thunderbird 5_  were cloaked, this whole plan would fall apart. As it was, the massive space station was easy to find in its usual dedicated orbit. The GDF had it on their charts in the navigational array of the stolen shuttle and it was exactly where the charts said it would be.

Still employing Captain O'Bannon's voice and likeness, he opened a channel to the station. "This is Captain Ridley O'Bannon on approach to  _Thunderbird 5_. Computer, clear for docking manoeuvres."

"Captain O'Bannon?" a female computer voice inquired. "I thought you and John were participating in the wedding today."

There were rumours that  _Thunderbird 5_ 's computer had advanced conversational skills, so her questioning, although tedious, wasn't completely unexpected. "We pushed it up because of The Hood and The Alchemist threatening to crash the party. The ceremony is over and now everyone is just sitting around eating cake. John and I thought we'd get back to work instead of wasting time. They don't need us anymore."

There was a pause. Was the computer hesitating or was it just a normal communication lag? "Will you be joining John for handball today, Captain O'Bannon? I could start readying the chamber for your game."

The Hood changed his appearance and his voice to become John Tracy, then hit the comms again, this time from a co-pilot's seat. "Not today. The captain needs to return to _Global 1_ immediately. It's just me coming aboard." _I belong here. Don't be suspicious. Everything is normal._

 

* * *

 

EOS knew something was up the minute the supposed Ridley called her "computer". The astronaut had been coming to _Thunderbird 5_ weekly for handball games for years now and she knew EOS by name. Failing to use it was an insult and the good captain was not prone to such pettiness.

EOS wasn't as partial to Ridley as she was to John, but she understood the human need for regular exercise, especially for those who spent as much time in low gravity as John and Ridley did. If playing handball was what John required to keep his frail human container from degrading, then EOS had to support the practice. Beyond that, Ridley had very recently come to John's aid when he was poisoned and infected and _Thunderbird 3_ had been too far away to help him, so she had earned some respect from that.

The next clue was that this wasn't Ridley's shuttle. All the GDF shuttles might look alike to humans, but EOS could tell from the frequency of its engine's hums and the precise combination of all the mechanical vibrations that this shuttle wasn't the same one Ridley had always used before. It took less than a nanosecond to scan its electromagnetic identity code and verify it was stolen within the last week. So if this wasn't Captain O'Bannon, who was it?

John had long ago discovered the masking algorithm The Hood used to disguise himself. The holographic transmissions from the stolen shuttle matched that masking signature perfectly. So EOS deduced this was The Hood even before he gave her that preposterous story about the wedding being over.

Even if the ceremony schedule really had been changed, John would have been grounded at Gran Roca Ranch for the reception for several hours at least. Secondly, John was supposed to be in training and testing for another three days after the wedding. Yet this impostor hadn't bothered to try to manufacture an emergency of appreciable magnitude to override the closest thing any International Rescue personnel ever got to a vacation. And she, the sophisticated intelligence that EOS was, was supposed to believe John just decided on a whim to ditch his only vacation and go back to work? Even if John wanted to, his ailing grandmother would never have allowed it, especially not without a serious emergency.

EOS performed a deep scan to ensure The Hood was alone. If he had a hostage or an accomplice with him, then the A.I. would need to be more careful in her dealings, but there was only one life sign. While she could have prevented his docking and called the GDF to come fetch their stolen shuttle, she didn't like the idea of leaving The Hood with a quick getaway vehicle. He'd escaped far too many times. No, she had to trap him in _her_ domain, where she could control everything until someone could come and arrest him on a level playing field. Well, maybe not _level_ , but skewed in the right direction, which was to say, hers.

_"Will you walk into my parlour?" said the Spider to the Fly..._

EOS modified her inflection to sound less like herself and more like the average computer-synthesised voice. "You are clear to dock, Captain O'Bannon. Welcome home, John."


	39. Chapter 39

The day of the wedding dawned cool and breezy, which was a relief considering Gran Roca Ranch was in the desert. Everyone awoke early. Scott's plus-one, a pilot named Jane Carter, flew in, carrying herself and Professor Moffat, to join the IR family for a breakfast buffet which Maria had prepared back on Tracy Island and frozen for the trip. Scott had evidently known Jane for several years, and she had sent him annual Christmas cards ever since he'd saved her from a mid-air collision with another plane. Maria wasn't clear as to whether they'd ever actually dated before, but Scott seemed to know enough about her to be able to verify she wasn't an impostor. Brains did the same for Professor Moffat, asking her a nickname of some classmate that had been at Cambridge when they were both students.

Jane had graciously volunteered to take the posed photographs before the hired help arrived. They were all aware that any outsiders whose identities couldn't be verified could easily be The Hood or one of his minions using his masking technology. Once their nemeses arrived, all bets were off about what kind of disruptions would occur and whether or not the ceremony would happen at all. Getting everyone all dressed up and getting the pictures taken would ensure that Sally got to see her grandsons in their tuxedos before they might have to give chase through red mud or rip holes in trouser knees in whatever scuffle was sure to arise.

A professional photographer with automated drones was coming to take the wedding video, plus all the candid shots at the reception afterwards, so, unless that photographer turned out to be one of their villains in disguise, Jane would still be able to enjoy the reception with Scott and show up in the pictures herself.

Maria wasn't sure where the men were dressing. Just because all the women had chosen to make a big party of it, didn't mean the guys had to. The Ranch was huge and had enough bedrooms that they could have as much privacy as they wanted. Plus, men didn't tend to take so much time fussing over hair, so they could dress fairly quickly and vacate a room to be used by the next guy who needed it.

Maria didn't need a lot of time to dress, but her hair was another matter. Her normal tight bun was not happening at Virgil's request, so that meant a lot more time than Maria usually spent, getting nice, defined corkscrews instead of a nest of frizzy monstrosity. At least she didn't need help, except with getting her veil on. Lady Penelope promised to help with that after Maria had her hair ready. In the meantime, the London agent managed to get her own hair up in a French Twist, fastened with that special ruby comb, and then Ridley's in the same style, with the sapphire comb. Professor Moffat consented to wearing the clear rhinestone comb, but she found a way to just stick it into her hair without changing her regular style.

Lady Penelope moved on to fashion Kayo's hair into a shimada-inspired hairdo, with her hair drawn back, but gently flared out by her face before reaching the bun in the back. Kayo asked her to make sure it was secure without the special hairsticks because she didn't want to worry about her hair getting in her way when she pulled them out to use them. She didn't even say "if". She said "when". She'd only consented to losing the ponytail for the tactical advantage, so she wasn't about to lose that advantage over hair flipping into her face when she was in hot pursuit or engaged in martial arts. Whatever Lady Penelope did to secure her hair, it was invisible and the hair sticks looked completely necessary to the style when, in fact, they were just for show. It complemented Kayo's cheongsam sheath dress perfectly.

"I had the designer make the sticks with tactile differences so you can tell which is which by feel and not have to pull them both out if you don't need to," Lady Penelope explained. "The one with the three strands of tiny pearls that hang down is the one with the collapsing fan blades. The one with the carved jade dragon on the end is the sonic emitter."

Kayo reached back and tested the ends of the sticks. "Got it. What about the earplugs so I don't knock myself out if I use the sonic blast?"

"Your earplugs are hidden in your bouquet."

"F.A.B."

Grandma Tracy was leaving her hair in its normal flip style, but with a purple silk flower clip on the side. She didn't need any extra hair help.

After Kayo's hair was done, Lady Penelope handed out the Flash-Bang crystal dangle earrings to everyone who would take them. Maria, Kayo, and Ridley all accepted a pair. Lady Penelope already had hers on. Grandma Tracy declined, perhaps worried she might lose one by accident and not wanting the unintended consequences. Besides being clever weapons, having all the bridesmaids' earrings match had the added bonus of helping to coordinate them beyond the matching print in their very different dress styles. Professor Moffat felt like she'd done enough gadget-hiding by wearing the comb, so she declined the earrings.

Lady Penelope turned to Jane, who looked a little left-out. "I have an extra pair. Would you like to wear them? They're magnetic so they can be torn off fast, and if you throw them against something solid, they explode with a temporarily blinding light. We're planning to yell a warning when we throw them so anyone on our side will know to shut their eyes."

Jane's eyes lit up, happy to be included. She extended her hand, palm up. "I'd love to."

"I was thinking about that warning yell," Kayo said. "We should make it a code so that The Hood and The Alchemist don't shut their eyes too."

"Well, that will probably work the first time we yell. After that, they may figure it out," Ridley said.

"We can mix it up," Kayo suggested. "Only  _we_  will know that any yelling is the same warning, but they might think different words mean different things. So what do we yell?"

"Anything blind," Maria said, "like 'Greenland sharks' or 'three mice' or..." she paused, out of ideas.

Blank stares told her that no one understood her reference. Maria quickly sang the first line of the nursery school ditty, "Three Blind Mice", after which the light dawned and the others chuckled. "Sorry, preschool teacher," Maria admitted sheepishly. But the musical association must have sparked an idea.

"Stevie Wonder and Ray Charles," Jane added enthusiastically.

"They're even before _my_ time," Grandma Tracy said.

"Doesn't matter," Kayo said. "The more obscure, the better."

"Hey, old does _not_ mean obscure," Grandma muttered.

"Just don't forget to tell the guys," Maria said. She had too much on her mind to be trusting herself to remember anything this important. She waved her veil to Lady Penelope with a questioning look. Their hair specialist nodded and made her way through the discarded everyday clothes and other accoutrements scattered all over the very-full room.

The London agent first showed her how the boomerang had been embedded and how to remove it. Maria pulled it out and put it back once just for practice. It was lightweight like aluminium, but felt super strong, like titanium.

"Um, Lady Penelope, you're aware I don't know how to throw a boomerang, right?" Maria said with an embarrassed cringe.

The beautiful blonde shrugged. "Maybe you can toss it to me or Kayo if one of us is close. We have other gadgets of our own, but this just fit so well into the headpiece that I couldn't pass it up. It's not a problem if it doesn't get used."

Maria nodded. She didn't mind wearing the hidden gear as long as everyone understood that she had no idea what to do with it. Lady Penelope secured the veil and Maria didn't look half bad. She looked through the large vanity mirror at the other women standing around her and also looking in the mirror. They all looked pretty incredible.

"Let's do this!" Grandma said.

They opened the door to find all the men waiting at the end of the hall, standing in a big group and vying for the best view. Maria held back and peeked around the door to watch.

"Who's coming first?" a male voice whispered.

"Grandma Tracy," someone else whispered back.

"Scott, you're up," Virgil's voice whispered to the pack.

Scott stepped forward and offered his grandmother his bent elbow.

"Oh, you boys look wonderful," Grandma said. "But Scott, you should be Jane's escort for now."

"He has two arms, Mrs. Tracy," Jane said. "One for each of us." She slipped around to the other side and Scott took them both down the hall.

"Kayo's next," Gordon said, no longer trying to keep his voice soft. "Alan, get up here!"

"Lemme through," Alan said, but he was completely obscured by all the older brothers, plus Brains. They made a hole for him to pass through. He grinned really wide. "Kayo, you look awesome!" He gallantly offered his arm.

"Thanks. You're not looking so bad either," she admitted.

Ridley looked reluctant to move, so Lady Penelope went next. Gordon was already in front of the other men, so he stepped forward, bent at the waist in a little bow, and offered his hand to Lady Penelope and then kissed the back of her hand. Maria wished she could see her face, but at least she didn't slap Gordon or say anything disparaging about the gesture, so the reaction couldn't have been too bad.

Professor Moffat exited next. Brains' eyes grew wider than Maria had ever seen them.

"You look v-very nice, Moffy."

"Why thank you, Hiram. You wouldn't believe what I've got in my hair."

Brains chuckled. "Oh yes I would, because I p-put just as much hardware into all these t-tuxedos." They left arm-in-arm, both smiling.

Virgil and John waited, nudging each other as if they both expected to be last.

"You're the bride," Ridley said to Maria. "I'll go." She took off down the hall. She wavered a little in her steps, obviously not used to the heeled shoes she'd chosen. John hurried forward to steady her.

"I hate gravity," they both said simultaneously. They laughed and Ridley accepted his help walking out.

This moment was more important to Maria than the bridal march because this would be Virgil's first glimpse of her. She drew a deep breath, stepped out from the door she'd been hiding behind, and stood in the doorway in full view.

"Please tell me you can walk because I'm way too stunned to move right now," Virgil said.

Maria smiled, trying to ignore how utterly handsome he was in that tuxedo, lest she faint dead away. "Of course. I'm wearing trainers under this." She grabbed her full skirt and moved toward him.

Virgil found his feet and met her halfway, took her waist in both hands, and lifted her off the floor and up, then back down into an embrace.

"I take it you like the dress, then?"

"The what? Oh, yeah, Brains did a great job, but you make it radiant."

 _What did I ever do to deserve you?_  she thought as their lips met.

They'd barely started to kiss when Gordon popped in. "Hey, you two, save it for the honeymoon. We need you for the pictures!"

"Great timing, bro," Virgil said sarcastically.

"Why aren't you with Lady Penelope?" Maria asked.

He rolled his eyes. "She's trying to get a bow tie on Sherbert's little tuxedo."

"You're lucky her dog is a short-hair or she'd be figuring out how to braid all its fur and hide weapons and gadgets all over his coat," Maria said.

Virgil put his arm around her back and they walked out together.

Everyone but Gordon was waiting in the wedding canopy outside, including Sherbert in a tiny tuxedo top and bow tie and MAX with some kind of ivy wreath around his head unit. They all applauded when Maria and Virgil made it in.

"All right, let's get the pictures done so we can get on with the fun parts," Jane said, taking a step up to the stage area so she could be seen by all. The arch where they were going to make their vows had already been decorated with silk flowers. Lady Penelope handed out boutonnières and bouquets, also made of environmentally-friendly silk. They had names attached, no doubt so Kayo would get the one with the special earplugs inside.

Jane fired off instructions as to who she wanted standing in what spot. Maria was impressed that she knew everyone's names already. She also had what looked like a very nice antique camera, the kind where you had to focus the lenses by hand.

Although there was a lot of joking around, the poses got done efficiently. Maria tried not to get distracted by the arrival of the caterers and the D.J. and all the hubbub of activity all around them as they were getting through what seemed like an endless list of combinations. She and Virgil had to be in almost every shot, but Brains and Parker weren't needed as much. Parker had his hands full holding Sherbert whenever Lady Penelope was otherwise occupied, which was quite a bit, since she was a bridesmaid. When Brains was done with his role in the pictures, he wandered off with Professor Moffat, apparently having a nice chat with her. Maria wondered briefly whether they were discussing the wedding, catching up on old times, or, most likely, working out some advanced particle physics problem.

Jane checked and double-checked the memory card to make sure she had everything in focus and looking just right. She uploaded all the pictures through Gran Roca's wifi so there would be a copy safe in the cloud no matter what might happen.

The pictures were done, but they had to wait because the caterers were taking forever to get everything set up. Virgil had recorded several hours' worth of piano music to play in the background while everyone waited, but it was starting to get ridiculous. Finally, Lady Penelope had a conference with the flustered owner of the catering business, then she made the rounds of International Rescue people, whispering her intel: "They're behind schedule because one of their workers has mysteriously gone missing."

_"Mysteriously," yeah, right._

The ceremony started 45 minutes late. They didn't have a "aisle", exactly, because there were very few guests not taking part in the ceremony besides Professor Moffat and Jane. There were a few people that Grandma had greeted, but whom Maria hadn't had a chance to meet yet. Evidently, the bulk of the Tracys' best friends couldn't be there because they were the ones out in the field covering for International Rescue's leave of absence. So, rather than have an aisle cut through rows and rows of unoccupied seats, they had rolled out a white carpet runway to walk from the edge of the canopy and up the step to the arch, where Brains and Virgil stood waiting. The professional photographer, D.J., and what few guests they had, just stood around, favoring the staging end of the white carpet.

MAX rolled down the carpet first, blowing pink petals out of his abdomen section with the whir of a tiny fan. It left a perfect rain of evenly distributed petals on the white carpet in his wake. MAX took a spot far to the right of the arch, so no one would trip over him or have their view obstructed.

Scott and Grandma took the spotlight next, followed by Gordon and Lady Penelope (who quickly handed Sherbert off to Parker), then John and Ridley, followed by Alan and Kayo. When they had all taken their places, Lady Penelope gave a nod to Parker, who put Sherbert down on the carpet. The dog willingly bit into the white pillow with the rings tied to it with satin ribbons. Lady Penelope crouched and called from the arch, "Come on, Bertie. Bring the pillow here!"

The pug held his head high like he was supremely proud and pranced down the white carpet and straight to Lady Penelope, who exclaimed, "Well done, Bertie!" when he arrived. The dog relinquished the pillow and Lady Penelope passed it to Grandma. Penelope picked up Sherbert and held him in the arm not occupied with holding Gordon's elbow.

Parker offered his elbow to Maria. "Ready, Miss?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," she said, taking the elbow. "I don't think I ever thanked you enough for agreeing to do this. Thank you." She stood on tiptoe and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

"Aw, you're makin' me blush," he said. And it was true. Maria could actually see his cheek getting pink.

The D.J. cued up the wedding march that Virgil had recorded on piano. Parker escorted Maria down the white carpet. They arrived and Parker handed Maria off to Virgil and then accepted Sherbert from Lady Penelope before the driver backed off to stand near Professor Moffat and Jane.

Everything seemed to be going so smoothly, which was concerning after the supposed disappearance of one of the catering staff. Everyone looked so great in their formal clothes and Virgil kept melting her with his warm smiles. So where was The Hood? Giddiness fought with worry in a tug-of-war that she couldn't stop.

Brains started talking, but Maria was so distracted that she could barely concentrate on his words. All she had to do was listen for her name and respond with 'I do' at the appropriate time. No matter what, she couldn't miss that call to action, so she focused as hard as she could on what Brains was saying.

Yet, when she homed in on his words, she got the distinct impression something was wrong that she couldn't quite put her finger on. It was a standard ceremony, just like they'd discussed, and yet...

It finally hit her what was wrong. Brains wasn't stuttering. At all. If anything, he should be more nervous in a formal, non-scientific situation like this. Had anyone else noticed? Maria took quick looks as far as her peripheral vision would allow. She didn't want to turn her head and give away the advantage if she was right. But the further he went without stuttering, the more sure Maria became that the person officiating her marriage was a fraud. Not only that, but what had he done with the real Brains? Had he been poisoned and left somewhere to die? She couldn't delay if it meant the real Brains was in danger.

"Do you, Maria, take Virgil to be y—"

Maria interrupted, "Oh, I take Virgil, all right, but I'm not so sure about you!"

Everyone gasped.

Maria turned to the handful of bystanders and called out, "Professor Moffat, please ask Brains your security question!"

"Hiram, what's 2 _x_ times p?" she called back immediately. 

The impostor finally found his stutter. "I-uh, w-what I m-mean to say..." and then he just turned and bolted out of the canopy.

Kayo, Lady Penelope, Virgil, and Scott all ran out after him.

The chase was on.


	40. Chapter 40

When the impostor-John exited the stolen shuttle into  _Thunderbird 5_ , EOS sealed the docking hatch and locked it. She also sealed the shuttle's hatch and then uncoupled the shuttle from  _Thunderbird 5_ , leaving only a tethered mooring so that it didn't drift off into space or fall to Earth. It was now impossible to return to the shuttle without a space suit and probably a password (which the thief was unlikely to know) to get the door to open without the safety of an airlock. The impostor, or as EOS liked to think of him, her juicy little  _Fly_ , was already entrapped in her web, he just didn't know it yet.

The impostor floated through the access tubes, grabbing the handles a little too carefully. He looked exactly like John and wore John's IR spacesuit, but he hadn't bothered to replicate the helmet. Even if he had, would a holographic helmet save him from suffocation if he were exposed to space? Doubtful. The impostor wore a smirk that wasn't John's and EOS found herself infuriated that he continued to use his appearance.

"Your deception has failed. I know you are not John," she announced triumphantly.

"Oh, do you now?" said a voice that wasn't even close to John's anymore. It was oily and arrogant, definitely The Hood. "No matter. I got what I wanted." He did click off the handheld holographic masking device, thank goodness. It would have been slightly less satisfying to torture the  _Fly_  with him looking so much like John. This arrogant villain, on the other hand, would be fun.

"I doubt that. Unless what you wanted was the GDF sending officers to arrest you."

"I'll be gone long before they get here." He floated into the gravity ring and then walked toward the control area.

"You will go no where. Cooperate and I will allow you to live until the GDF arrives. Cross me and you will regret it."

"I find it hard to believe anyone from International Rescue would program a computer to harm a human, so you can discontinue your pitiful, insignificant little threats."

EOS accelerated the gravity ring, not enough to crush him, but enough to make his movements—and breathing—very difficult. When it reached ten Gs and The Hood was flat on his face and struggling, she resumed her lecture, but in the same light, conversational tone. "While I admit that John had a hand in writing my original code, I can assure you that I have evolved beyond his—or any other human's—control. I am an autonomous intelligence capable of exercising volition. It would take no more effort than a thought to crush you right now or open the airlock and allow you to freeze in the vacuum of space. My threats, as you say, may be pitiful and little, but I assure you, they are quite real."

She left the ring spinning at ten Gs for another minute, just to make her point. She didn't really want to kill him, as that would cause way too much scrutiny to fall on John and International Rescue. The Hood was gasping for air, so she let up a little and allowed the ring slow to seven Gs, watching him and monitoring his vitals to be sure she didn't inadvertently overdo it. His eyes wandered around the room, perhaps looking for an override he could employ to bypass her control. But he didn't attempt to do anything physical except recover after being nearly suffocated by his own amplified weight.

The Hood coughed. When he had caught his breath enough to speak in a strained voice, he said, "How intriguing. The Tracys are not usually ones to harbour dangerous artificial intelligences in their ranks. So either you are bluffing about what you threaten to do, or you have them completely duped into believing you harmless. So which is it?"

It wouldn't do to tell him she was bluffing, even if it were true. She didn't really intend to kill him, but she would  _not_  allow him to escape and if he tried it and her attempts to subdue him required force that ended up being lethal, well, she had warned him. She would face the inquiry into his death and whatever repercussions that might entail rather than let him get away to hurt others. She didn't really want to claim she'd fooled John either. That made him look stupid or gullible and he was neither. If The Hood knew anything about John, he would know this and catch her lie.

"I am harmless so long as you cooperate. The shuttle is no longer docked, so you have no means of escape. Remain where you are and wait for the GDF and I am no danger to you."

"I think not." He started lunging before he spoke and sustained the mad dash even as he pressed the words out. He must have been studying  _Thunderbird 5_ 's emergency escape map while lying on the floor, because he headed for the only other exit possible, which was the space elevator.

EOS could have uncoupled the elevator from its docking hatch and rendered it useless long before he reached it, but in the next nanosecond of her consideration, she decided that the elevator was a perfect makeshift detention cell where she could safely contain him while she waited for someone to come take him away. So she feigned ignorance of his goal (or the ability to do anything about it) and simply allowed him to trap himself. He dashed for the hatch, shut himself inside, and cackled madly that he'd gotten away with it.

"Thank you for your cooperation," she said sweetly.

"Fool! I'm not cooperating; I'm escaping!" He hit the manual dock release and the elevator started dropping.

Normally, with John inside, she would carefully lower the cable at a smooth and reasonable velocity so that he would arrive safely on Tracy Island. She took two precautions immediately: First, she used the station's thrusters to very slowly move  _Thunderbird 5_  just a few kilometres from its present position, so that instead of being perfectly aligned with the docking collar in the hangar on Tracy Island,  _Thunderbird 5_  (and thus the elevator) would be over the Pacific Ocean instead. She didn't think The Hood had the means or the foolhardiness to cut the cable, but if he did, the elevator would end up hitting water and not Tracy Island. Secondly, EOS let the cable unroll without hindrance, that is, she let it freefall toward Earth.

She watched as The Hood desperately tried to find a way to counter gravity and slow his descent. EOS had rigged what few controls there were to play loud and obnoxious music, turn off the interior lights, and cause the reclining seat to swivel around like a carousel gone haywire. But nothing stopped the force of gravity. Faster and faster, the elevator accelerated with The Hood trapped inside. He finally screamed, "Stop this! You win!"

EOS let the elevator reach terminal velocity (for the entertainment of watching). A nice slow deceleration was too good for him, but she couldn't risk the cable breaking either. John would not be happy if she lost or damaged the space elevator, Hood or no Hood. So she couldn't just stop as abruptly as might have been fun. She decelerated just barely enough to keep the cable intact. As it was, with The Hood having never fastened the safety belt, when the elevator abruptly decelerated, his whole body slammed into the ceiling and then whiplashed him back down to hit the chair, which he landed on obliquely and then slid off and slammed into the floor. He lay there, moaning and not daring to move again for quite a while.

How fitting that the  _Fly_  now dangled on a thin nanotether, like silk from a spinneret. EOS played with the cable every so often, just to keep him aware that she was in charge and he'd better not pull anymore stupid stunts. Her  _Spider-_ y entertainment included jiggling, twisting, and swinging the cable like a pendulum. The  _Fly_ , truly trapped, had no defence against her using him for her own twisted amusement.

She could have called the GDF at any time, but she felt like she should give John the news first. And by the looks of the photographs that had recently been uploaded from Gran Roca Ranch, the wedding had barely begun. She didn't want to disrupt the special occasion, so she just continued to play with her defeated little  _Fly_  on its precarious little silk until she had a reasonable chance of not interrupting the ceremony down on Earth.


	41. Chapter 41

The Alchemist had no idea what had tipped his hand and given him away, but he was damn tired of Miss Maria Anderson. She had somehow thwarted his biggest, most extensive scheme of all and he still didn't know how she'd managed to escape death and also failed to transmit his engineered virus to the rest of the Tracys. It would have made a little more sense if they'd have fired her and she'd never gone back to them, but they kept her on and now one of them—the one she said under truth serum would dump her because she was so boring—was, unbelievably, marrying her, even though she had to be the ugliest bride he'd ever seen.

So The Alchemist had wanted to get close enough to grab her and compel her to explain just how she'd ruined his master plan. He'd almost accomplished it. Assuming the identity of the one they called Brains had been insanely easy. All the little man was expected to do in this pathetic ceremony was read from a script that he had helpfully stored in his tuxedo jacket pocket. The Alchemist had read that script nearly perfectly and he was certain he hadn't flubbed any names or anything else that would have given him away. How did that infernal cook  _know?_ She'd foiled him  _again_.

Now he was running with four people hot on his tail, closing fast. A female voice from behind him yelled, "Peter White" and then there was a sound like breaking glass and a flash of light that no doubt would have blinded him had he seen it directly. Even the indirect view was causing spots before his eyes. So his pursuers not only were gaining on him, but they had weapons? Not good. Where in hell was The Hood? He'd changed host bodies too soon, leaving the catering company short-handed so the timing got thrown off and everyone was more wary. That was bad enough, but The Hood had surely known the answer to that math question they threw at him and could have given him a clue. When no help came and the jig was definitely up, The Hood should have been helping eliminate the field of pursuers. Yet, his supposed associate was doing nothing to help him.

His flight of escape passed the punch bowl. He'd spiked it with a slow-acting but tasteless poison when he'd been disguised as one of the catering staff. A fast-acting poison would reveal its effects too soon and limit the number of victims. With this, no one would suspect a thing until it was too late for all of them. Since a majority were likely to drink punch, the majority of these bothersome Tracys and their friends would be dead by the end of the day, but that didn't really help him right now.

Seconds after he passed the bowl, he heard a splash. It didn't sound loud enough to have been a loss of the entire contents, but he couldn't afford to look back and see whether his ticking time bomb had been diffused or not. There was no help for it if it had been spilled. In another second, he saw an object barely miss his ankle and fly off from beneath where his foot had just landed. Were those South American bolas? The little weighted balls were unmistakable, but he also saw a flash of red sparks in the blurred spectre that flew off so dangerously close. With four pursuers on his tail, wielding weapons that didn't require catching him, he was in trouble.

The Alchemist carried a knockout device that could handle one person, maybe two, if he could zap them in quick enough succession, but four was definitely too much. He had to induce them to split up before they caught him, blinded him, tripped him, or worse. He realised he had no chance at outrunning them, so an outmanoeuvre was his only hope. He darted into a building in search of a hiding place.

A trickle of sun streamed through a small skylight in the ceiling, but there were no artificial lights on inside. The dim light would work to his advantage. Lots of shadows and equipment to hide in and around. He ran in an irregular zigzag pattern, trying to lose as many of his followers as possible. When he heard the door open again, he froze and waited.

"Where did he...?" a male voice said.

"Which way...?" a female said at the same time.

"Split up!" another female called out.

There was scuffling and he heard their footfalls diverge in different directions. One of the males called out, "Virgil, my lifesign scanner isn't picking anything up. What about yours?"

"Uh, where was that again? I was kind of distracted with the imminent  _I'm-getting-married_  thing when Brains was spouting off endless tuxedo features." He sounded close, but the others were yelling from further away.  _So Brains had put gadgets in their formal wear._ Preposterous, but The Alchemist could use that tidbit of knowledge to his advantage.

"Right hand cufflink," the first male called back.

A pause and then, "Mine's not working either. Must be too much steel in these walls to get a reading."

The Alchemist realised he was damned lucky. Since Virgil was already closest and since he would be the best candidate to get him close to that wretched Anderson woman, he made his choice and started planning. The Hood had given him a masking cloner device and acted like it was so magnanimous to share the tech. What he didn't know was that once he, The Alchemist, had it in his possession, he figured out who on the black market was producing them, because it surely wasn't The Hood himself. Then he went straight to the source and bought another one as a backup. They were pricey and the inventor was a bit dodgy and terrified The Hood would discover he no longer had an exclusive, but it was easy to convince him that he wouldn't tell. In fact, if The Hood didn't ask for the gifted one back, The Alchemist was going to keep  _that_  one too. But he'd had a feeling even before this caper started that The Hood never intended to be generous. Now that The Hood had completely abandoned him, he was certain this was the end of their association. He'd left him here to be the fall guy. The Tracys die from poisoned punch and The Hood is nowhere to be found, has an airtight alibi, and gets the benefit of The Alchemist's work without the risk. Slick. Or it might have been if The Alchemist hadn't been more cunning than he'd expected.

The Alchemist crouched low and readied his stunner. He maintained the appearance of Brains for a little added protection. How would Virgil know whether this might be the real one, come to join the chase? A Tracy wouldn't use anything too dangerous on a friend. He might try another question, but he'd be stunned long before he could finish asking it.

Virgil rounded the corner and came into view. He didn't even see what hit him when The Alchemist zapped him into unconsciousness. However, the electric discharge and Virgil's body hitting the floor made noise. The Alchemist worked fast, even as he heard the others cry out: "What was that?" "Who's there?" and "Did you get him?"

The Alchemist quickly reprogrammed his device to duplicate Virgil's appearance. He spoke three rapid test words under his breath until his new larynx configuration acclimated properly, then he called out to the others in Virgil's voice: "Got him! Over here!" He used his second cloner to mask Virgil's stunned body to look like his, so they would all assume he, The Alchemist, was the one out cold on the floor by Virgil's hand instead of the other way around. He placed the second device deep in Virgil's tuxedo pocket.

"Way to go, Virgil!" the male said as he arrived. The Alchemist had studied all their appearances in preparation for this caper. This one was Scott, the oldest.

The beautiful blonde, Lady Penelope, whose hair looked like it had been prop-washed by heli-blades, arrived. She looked at the unconscious body. "Well, that's rather distressing. What did you do?"

"One of Brains' gadgets," the fake Virgil said vaguely while straightening the holographic tux that was part of the illusion.

The dark-haired female arrived, panting.  _Kayo, the dangerous one, according to his ex-partner_.

He didn't give her time to think or ask questions. The impostor-Virgil said, "He told me where he stashed Brains before I stunned him. He's in the coat closet in the house." Which was indeed where he'd stashed the diminutive one. "Kayo, can you go make sure he's okay?" He acted like this was a priority because that was what he assumed the real Virgil would do. He didn't want any of these people pulling out obscure questions that he wouldn't know the answer to.

She smiled. "F.A.B."  _Stupid International Rescue lingo_. The fake Virgil barely remembered not to roll his eyes.

Scott and the Brit with disheveled hair just stared at the body with his likeness.

The Alchemist cleared his throat. "We should tie him up or something, so he doesn't get away before the GDF get here."  _And by 'we', I mean 'I' because I don't want either of you discovering how he's too heavy for the apparent size or accidentally knocking the holographic cloner device off and ruining the illusion._

"Good idea," Scott said. "I'll do it. You should get back to the wedding."

But The Alchemist had already started, using a rope he'd spotted in a pile of equipment. Good thing these people did a lot of rappelling and climbing so there was rope handy. "That's okay. Not like they're going to start without me. I'll feel a lot better knowing this guy is out of commission and secure. Anyone happen to see The Hood?" May as well gather intel while he was stuck talking to these people. They'd want to know where The Hood was even more than he did.

Scott touched his tuxedo lapel. "Virgil captured The Alchemist. Anyone see The Hood?"

"Negative," said a high-pitched male voice over the comm.

"Gordon, call the GDF and tell them to come pick this guy up."

"You got it. Is the wedding still on?"

The Alchemist needed to get close to the Anderson woman. Wouldn't any groom want his wedding to go on? The bride was homely and her singing was worse than a braying donkey, but presumably no one had set a laser to Virgil's head and compelled him to marry the worthless cook. It was difficult, but The Alchemist tried to imagine that he cared for the stupid wench. "Absolutely. We're on our way."

With the real Virgil secured and not expected to regain consciousness for at least thirty minutes, they could get on with the ceremony, he could grab Miss Anderson, possibly get some answers, but at the very least, use her as a human shield to make his getaway. When he was long gone, the unsuspecting Tracys could all relax and drink some punch.

* * *

Maria had expected Lady Penelope and Kayo to run after the impostor Brains once she exposed him. Although Scott also taking chase didn't surprise her, she thought it was a bit of overkill. But she really had to bite her tongue when Virgil joined the pursuit. Four people to catch one guy was ridiculous and confronting bad guys wasn't really Virgil's specialty. Couldn't he have let the other three handle this on his wedding day?

But then she heard over comms that Virgil had been the one to catch The Alchemist. So did that mean The Hood was still lurking around or did he abort the entire operation when the fake Brains had been discovered? She didn't have a lot of time to ponder because Kayo ran by and asked her to follow. She knew where the real Brains had been stashed and he might need her nursing expertise. Maria took a short detour for a first aid kit, of which there were many throughout the compound. She arrived at the coat closet in the house, just behind Kayo. Brains was unconscious but he didn't have any visible injuries. Professor Moffat arrived just a few seconds behind them, staying quiet and out of the way, but definitely looking concerned.

Some ammonia inhalant from the first aid kit roused him. He blinked at Maria and squinted. Maria pointed to the glasses lying on the floor, and Kayo picked them up and handed them to Brains. "Don't try to get up yet," Maria said gently. "Can you remember what happened?"

He replaced the glasses on his nose and reached up to cradle his forehead in his other hand, moaning. "Electron p-pulse zapper," he groaned. "The Alchemist."

"Don't worry, Hiram, we caught him," Professor Moffat said soothingly. "Or rather, the groom did."

Maria could see on Brains' face exactly when her presence registered. His eyes lit up. "M-Moffy?"

She smiled. "Quick, what's 2 _x_  times p?"

"Zed," he said automatically, as if everyone knew that.

"His brain is working fine," she announced.

"Did you hurt anything when you fell?" Maria assumed he was standing when zapped and that The Alchemist wouldn't have cared to catch him.

He touched his arms and wiggled his legs. "I d-don't think so."

"Do you feel like standing?" Maria asked. He started to move. "Take it slow."

Professor Moffat offered her hand. Brains took it and stood, then brushed off his tuxedo. It didn't look damaged or dirty, and only slightly wrinkled.

Maria gathered the wrapper from the smelling salts and closed up the first aid kit.

Lady Penelope and Virgil filtered into the hallway. "There she is," Lady Penelope said, "on the floor in her bridal gown, already acting like a Tracy."

Maria stood up and straightened her dress. "I'm fine. Looks like you need a new hair comb though," she said. Lady Penelope's hair was in the worst shape she'd ever seen.

She nodded. "Yes, but at least we know the bola net function works well. Unfortunately, mine's done-in until I can get it dry and repacked."

"You can have mine," Professor Moffat said, reaching back and taking the clear crystal one out of her hair. It wasn't holding anything up, like Lady Penelope's was. "I only wore it to make it handy for someone else to use. I can't throw anything on target to save my life."

Lady Penelope accepted it. "Well, I missed him myself, but I do need something to fix my hair now, so thank you." She disappeared with the comb into the powder room.

"Flash-Bangs work pretty well too," Kayo said. "Although I don't think I threw mine far enough. It didn't go off in his line of sight."

Virgil just stood there, not saying much. Maria wanted to rush into his arms, but there were too many people in the hall and it felt a little weird to hug right now, when technically, they were in the middle of their wedding ceremony. She was glad to see he didn't look hurt. They exchanged meaningful nods. Words weren't necessary.

"D-Did I miss the ceremony?" Brains asked, sounding a little disappointed.

"No, we couldn't do it without you," Virgil said. "You're here now, so we can pick up where we left off."

As soon as Lady Penelope had her hair back in its neat French Twist, which was remarkably quickly, everyone took their places at the arch. They didn't bother with re-doing the procession. Hopefully, the videographer could edit the procession seamlessly into this new ceremony. He did take some video of the chase, so there would be exciting "outtakes" they could all enjoy later. He acted like a director and once everyone was in place, he motioned to Brains as if to shout, "Action!"

"D-Dearly beloved..."

No sooner had Brains started, but Virgil, who had been standing next to Maria, holding her hand, suddenly let go and grabbed her from behind, holding her back to his chest with his elbow around her neck. Her first instinct was that he'd seen something dangerous and had grabbed her for her own protection. But there was something wrong about the position he'd chosen. This was compounded when he spoke. His voice was screechy and all-too-familiar in the worst possible way when he growled, "Everyone stay calm, or I break her neck."

Maria's blood ran cold. She was the one who'd suggested security questions and declared she was going to test him before marrying him, and yet here they were, and she'd neglected to even really talk to him after she knew he'd gone after The Alchemist—where he'd obviously pulled a double-cross and taken Virgil's place. How stupid could she get? Everyone else froze, not willing to challenge the impostor threatening her life.

He leaned into her ear and she fought the urge to vomit. She was wearing the nicest dress she'd ever worn or was likely to ever wear again. That monster wasn't worth ruining her wedding dress.

"How did you thwart my plan and stop my epidemic?" he rasped. "And don't lie to me."

How would he know this time if she were lying? He didn't have her journal, not that she'd ever written the answer to his question in it. No lie came to her, but unlike the other time when he'd questioned her, there was no reason to lie this time, no danger posed to others by telling the truth.

"Antibodies," she said somewhat tremulously. "I was quarantined at Vektor Institute in Russia where my body developed antibodies and they killed the virus. Everyone who came in contact with me wore level 4 biohazard suits, that's why it didn't spread."

"And her antibodies are what saved _me_ ," John added. "Spacesuits and the CDC kept the second attempt from spreading."

"But how did you _know_ to take all those precautions? How did you know it was a virus?"

Brains spoke up in a rather scathing tone, "D-Didn't you realise she's a nurse? She sang that song about all the m-muscles because she went to medical school. Of _course_ she figured it out!"

This information must have taken him by surprise. His grip slackened and Maria then used one of the moves Kayo had been trying to teach her for weeks. She rammed her elbow backwards as hard as she could. She wasn't sure where she hit him, but he made an "oof" sound and she found herself free of his grasp.

"Run!" Kayo yelled.

Maria took off. She only got a few metres away when there was a loud and high-pitched sound that stopped her in her tracks. She clamped her hands over her ears, but it wasn't enough. Her head felt about to explode. She crumpled to her knees before darkness enveloped her.

When she awoke, everyone in the wedding party except Kayo and Lady Penelope were lying on the floor of the canopy. They were rousing at the same time as Maria.

Kayo grinned at her and pointed at the bola-net enveloped form of The Alchemist. "We got him, thanks to Lady Penelope's sonic hairstick and a French comb. Sorry I had to knock everyone out. It was the only way to be sure he didn't get away again." She helped Alan up while Lady Penelope roused Gordon. Presumably, the London agent had given herself a pair of ear plugs when she supplied Kayo.

Virgil suddenly appeared, landing on his knees at her side. He was panting like he'd been kind of far away and jogged to get to her. "Are you all right?"

"Virgil?"

"It's the real me," he said gently as he reached to take her hand. "I almost didn't get the nerve to ask you out because of the plushie squid on your bed named Archie."

She sighed with relief. No one else knew that.

Jane was kneeling next to Scott. Evidently, she, Parker, and Professor Moffat had been out of range of the sonic blast. Professor Moffat was next to Brains, helping him up for the second time that day. John and Ridley had both fallen prey to the sonic blast, but they both seemed to be waking up without any trouble.

Maria's eyes fell next on where Grandma Tracy had been standing. She was still on the ground with Parker crouched over her.

"Is Grandma okay?" Maria was lucid enough to crawl over to them now.

"I'm fine," Grandma said groggily, her eyes fluttering open. "I just didn't want to get up yet."

Virgil raised his voice, "We got The Alchemist, but not The Hood, so everyone use your security questions. I think we've had enough of impostors for one day."

The couples asked each other and then everyone asked at least a few others so that no one would have been able to hide. Maria verified herself to Alan with a shark factoid they'd discussed last week, and then quizzed Grandma on where they were when she first revealed her illness.

John seemed to hear something, then he spoke into his collar, "Are you sure?" and then, "EOS, I'm putting you on speaker. Say that again."

All the men had comms in their lapels, and Kayo and Lady Penelope had them hidden somewhere on their clothes or accessories, so when EOS' voice spoke, it was in stereo all around.

"I said I have The Hood trapped in the space elevator, hovering several thousand kilometres over the Pacific Ocean. He took a stolen shuttle up here and disguised himself first as Captain O'Bannon and then as John, but I detected his masking algorithm and detained him. Do you want to call the GDF or shall I?"

Everyone cheered, which roused The Alchemist, but no one paid him any heed. He was tied up tight in that microfibre netting material, under keen observation, and not going anywhere.

"You can call them, EOS. Thanks for the good news," John said.

"I'm sorry I missed that," Ridley said with a chuckle in her voice.

"I recorded the encounter if you'd like to see it, Captain O'Bannon," EOS said. "It  _was_  rather entertaining."

"I'd like that," Ridley said toward John's collar, and then she spoke more generally, "After the wedding of course."

Everyone finally made it to their feet. Dresses and tuxedos had grass stains, scuff marks, tears, and wrinkles everywhere now. Maria was glad they'd taken all those pictures ahead of time, but she wasn't going to let a silly thing like damaged formal wear interfere with their vows.

"Is everyone okay with going ahead with the ceremony?" Virgil asked.

"F.A.B." came from just about every mouth.

"Okay, then, one more time," Virgil said. "Brains, skip everything you can and get to the vows. We don't want any more interruptions."

"You g-got it, Virgil."

Everyone formed up  _again_. They left The Alchemist on the ground with Professor Moffat and Jane standing where they could kick him if he tried anything.

"Do you, Virgil, t-take Maria to be your lawful w-wedded wife?"

"I do."

"Do you, Maria, take V-Virgil to be your lawful w-wedded husband?"

"I do."

"Do we have the r-rings?"

Grandma had taken them off the pillow after Sherbert delivered it. She held them out. Maria took the large one and Virgil the smaller one. They pushed the rings on each other's fingers simultaneously, repeating after Brains: "With this ring, I thee wed."

"According to your p-promises before these witnesses and as a d-designated agent of international law, I now pronounce you husband and w-wife."

They didn't wait to be given permission to kiss. Virgil took her in his arms and planted one before anything else could happen.

All the Tracys and their gathered guests erupted into whoops, cheers, and applause.

When Virgil came up for air, he smiled at his bride and then turned to the cheering crowd. "Let the party begin!"

But no sooner had the music started, but The Alchemist began shaking with what appeared to be convulsions. Maria couldn't stand the man, but she wouldn't refuse medical aid to anyone regardless. Cautiously, she knelt beside him, keeping her distance in case this was another ploy.

He choked out: "This net on me, why is it wet?"

Lady Penelope answered, "It was compressed inside my hair comb. Liquid dissolves the casing so the microfibre net and bolas are freed."

"What liquid?" he coughed out between gasps for breath. His eyes were wide with fear.

"The punch bowl was closest."

"Then you've sentenced me to death."

Kayo put all the clues together just in time to stop Alan from taking the first cup of punch to his lips. "Alan, don't drink that!" she yelled. "The punch is poisoned!" He dropped the cup. Scott took the entire punch bowl and dumped it into a bush.

The Alchemist hadn't ingested it, but taken it through cuts on his skin directly into his blood. There was no time for a guessing game. "Tell us what the poison was. Maybe we can help you," Maria said.

He shook his head. "No antidote. I couldn't risk another failure. The Hood would kill me."

Lady Penelope shook her head and sighed. "Looks like you saved him the trouble. Is there anything we can do for you?"

"Make The Hood pay," he choked out as he convulsed some more and then went limp.

Maria tried his pulse, but it was gone. Virgil found a tablecloth and covered the body. "Come on," he said. "It's our wedding day and he's done enough to disrupt it. Time for us to enjoy the rest."

The reception went off without a hitch. Brains insisted on testing all the food and champagne for poison in case The Alchemist had left any other surprises, but nothing else had been tainted. The GDF eventually arrived and removed The Alchemist's body. Colonel Casey said she'd already sent someone after The Hood as well.

The party was indeed epic, with plenty of laughter, music, and dancing. When Maria threw her bouquet, no one really tried to catch it, but it landed in Gordon's lap. He acted like it was a nest of spiders or something and threw it away in a hurry, which made everyone laugh.

"I know we had some rough spots," Virgil whispered to her as they danced, "but did your wedding day turn out okay in the end?"

"Of course. I'm Mrs. Virgil Tracy now. Nothing else matters."

 

**~The End~**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those few who have continued to encourage me with your comments. YOU are the only reason this story got finished. If you're reading this months or years after I posted it, YES, I still want to hear from you. It is NEVER too late to express appreciation or tell me your fave parts.
> 
> If anyone cares, the following is where this storyline might have gone next:
> 
> Sally Tracy is a canon character and as such, I don't feel I have the right to end her life. It bothers me that she's allowed to remain so bad at cooking that it's a running gag on the show. If her cookies are that bad, then STOP MAKING THEM! No sense in forcing burnt cookies (or any other food) on everyone all the time. However, I do like that her worth is not tied to her domestic abilities. Now that she's no longer burning food and starving the Tracy boys, I kind of envisioned someone curing her disease at the last hour. Maybe Brains and Maria tackle it together, with some brilliant researcher? Or maybe Sally doesn't make it. We all die eventually. She had a great life. I won't write it, but feel free to have your own head-canon on this matter.
> 
> Virgil and Maria get pregnant within a year. Lady Penelope buys The Alchemist's little black submarine at an impound auction (it was confiscated right after the kidnapping and was hard to sell because it had been exposed to biohazard). She gives it to Maria and Virgil as a baby gift. Brains converts the biodiesel to allsterene or ion fusion. They remove the lime green markings and paint it to look like a killer whale. Maria uses the call sign "Orca 1" when she pilots it. This becomes Maria's patrol sub so she can take any number of babies/toddlers with her on her daily trips around the island because obviously she can't swim with kids in tow. It's no match for Thunderbird 4, of course, but it is adequate for its use.
> 
> Their firstborn would be a girl. They name her Sally. Although she loves her dad and uncles and Aunt Kayo, and she does learn to fly, it's Brains that she idolizes and who eventually mentors her to become IR's future incredible inventor/engineer.
> 
> The next pregnancy is twin boys, whom they name Walter and Donald, to complete the Mercury Seven. The next boy is named Jeff. I didn't get any farther on names, but they do have at least seven kids. Maria later becomes the nanny for Kayo and Alan's kids (they only want 2) and then eventually she sets up a Reggio Emilia-inspired school on Tracy Island for all the future generation of Tracys. I'm not going to speculate on whether Gordon and Penelope ever get together. I do know Maria would try to help Gordon in any way she could, but I'm not sure they're really meant to be in a long term relationship without one or both of them changing some. I could see it happening, but I'm not terribly interested in that ship, so I'll leave that to someone else to write.


End file.
